OTMA, From Russia
by Damia
Summary: **Authors Notes Posted*******This is a 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' crossover, with the Romanovs, where Buffy gets transported back to 1915 where she mets the Imperial Family.
1. The Journey

Kia Ora! As some of you might have noticed, I have finally decided to give this part a good spell-check, (sorry if I still miss some, lol) and write a proper starting point for this story!  
  
****  
  
Author: Damia  
  
Email: Damia_1@hotmail.com  
  
Pairing: Buffy/Angel. Xander/Anya. Willow/Tara. Other/Other  
  
Rating: Umm, we shall say PG-13 for the future parts.. which will get rather nasty later on.  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own Buffy. Nuff' said about that. Some characters are mine, none that are introduced in this part though. (For future reference, some of these are Cora, Mr Betran, Folkine, and Serko Vasilev.) The Romanovs belong to nobody.well, except history.  
  
Season: Season 5. (Start)  
  
Spoilers: Dawn's in it, well, will be soon. Riley's in it too, (sorry) but not for long!  
  
Summery: Buffy travels back to 1915, Russia, where she meets the Romanovs, Russia's Imperial Family, which sets of a chain of events that would change a family forever.  
  
Notes: Not many...ok, a few. Just want to say that this story means a lot to me, I've been a fan of the Romanov's for a long, long time and for me, this story is a way of expressing the admiration I have for such an extraordinary family. And to add Buffy to the mix, well! What could be better? Two of my favourite things in one! A big thanx to my biggest fan, Emily, who sits on her computer at 2 in the morning on the other side of the world, following through dreamed up plots with me!  
  
  
  
Prologue.  
  
Tsarskoe Selo. St Petersburg, Russia. 1915.  
  
Marie Nicholaievna Romanov smiled and looked out the window down towards the snow-caped ground from her huge three-story bedroom that she shared with her younger  
  
sister of two years, Anastasia. Quickly looking around her dark bedroom to make sure neither  
  
her Mama or Papa were watching, Marie climbed up onto the window seat and with a mighty  
  
heave, pushed the twin French windows wide open, letting the frozen Russian air dance inside.  
  
The light brown haired, 16 year old girl sighed deeply and closed her eyes, feeling the snow  
  
drops fall off the roof of the Alexander Palace and land on her creamy nose. She grinned  
  
wickedly, for she knew if one of her parents found her here catching her death there would be  
  
hell to pay.  
  
She opened her eyes with that thought, gazing with her doe like blue eyes down out into the  
  
deserted streets of Tsarskoe Selo, the lights reflexing off the mighty Palaces the only light that  
  
could be seen in the night sky. Marie shivered, wrapping her French silk nightgown around her  
  
body and tried to forget about the harsh winter's breath as she made her way out of the window  
  
to sit on the ledge, her bare ivory legs dangling off the side.  
  
"Mashka, what are you doing?" came a furious whisper and Marie turned her head gracefully,  
  
regarding her beautiful 14 year old sister in amusement.  
  
"Dear, Ana." Marie told her, giggling. "Are you to tell me you have never ventured out our  
  
magnificent window to watch the moon?"  
  
Anastasia knitted her delicate eyebrows regally, trying to think of an answer that wouldn't get her  
  
in trouble. Marie saw her intention and grinned, beaconing her beloved sister over to her. The  
  
girl let out a sigh of relief, realising she should have known her favourite sister would never tell  
  
their Papa of her adventures.  
  
She frowned. Not like her other sisters, Olga and Tatiana. Anastasia sometimes thought the  
  
two girls soul aim in life was to make her life a misery, always getting her in strive with their  
  
parents...not that Nicholas and Alexandra could ever expect anything else from their  
  
mischievous youngest daughter.  
  
"Hurry up, Malenkaya." Marie urged, grabbing her coat arm and pulling her up beside her on  
  
the window ledge. The two friends fell silent, just content to watch the stars shine brightly down  
  
on their homes and the high towers of St Petersburg comfort them that they would all be safe  
  
and happy as long as they stayed inside the Palace walls.  
  
Marie turned to her sister, her face oddly wise. "Do you feel anything, Ana?" she whispered  
  
urgently, her saucer like blue eyes wide and curious. Anastasia inclined her head to the side  
  
and looked at her strangely.  
  
"Whatever do you mean?"  
  
Marie just sighed, turning back to the city. "Something's coming, Ana. I can feel it."  
  
Her youngest sister's eyebrows nearly hit her hairline. She quickly leaned in towards Marie and  
  
gripped her forearm tightly, a delighted smile playing on her face. "Really, Mashka?" she asked  
  
excitedly. "Like what?"  
  
Marie frowned, looking deeply troubled. "For the life of me I wouldn't know, dear Shvizbik." She  
  
started to play with her nightgown in her lap nervously until Anastasia got so tired of it she put  
  
her own hands over her sister's to still them.  
  
She jerked; startled to feel her usually strong sister was shaking. "Mashka, what's the matter?"  
  
she asked in alarm, wondering if she should return inside to fetch Olga or Tatiana.  
  
Marie turned to her sister; her eyes glittering with unshed tears. "It is the dreams, Ana. They  
  
keep me up so late I can't get any sleep." she complained.  
  
Anastasia leaned forward again. "Dreams?" She hissed, fascinated by the subject. "What  
  
dreams?"  
  
Marie sighed, leaning forward slightly to look if there were any guards on duty by the Palace  
  
doors who might just happen to look up and see them sitting there and tell their parents.  
  
Seeing she wasn't answering, Anastasia groaned in annoyance and thumped Marie on the  
  
arm, getting her attention.  
  
"What dreams, Marie!?" she asked, becoming insistent.  
  
Her older sister didn't turn to her, just continuing to watch the sparkling city in front of them. "A  
  
girl." she finally explained quietly. "A pretty girl with hair the colour of gold." She looked sharply  
  
at her gaping sister, frowning to tell her to close her mouth.  
  
Anastasia clamped her mouth shut, urging her sister to continue. "She doesn't speak, Ana."  
  
Marie explained, biting her lip with the thought of her dream visitor. "But she seems awfully  
  
unhappy as she sits there, staring out to space."  
  
"Where is she?" Ana asked, her eyes huge as she struggled to take all this in.  
  
Marie cocked her head, playing with the long strands of her curly brown hair idly. "She's in  
  
some sort of bedroom, I know that." She huffed. "Where though, I wouldn't for the life of me  
  
know. The room was so strange, everything was so bright and colourful." She turned to the  
  
silent Anastasia, smiling. "Nothing we have is like that."  
  
Her sister frowned with that, thinking they had everything. "Could she be in somewhere like  
  
Australia?" she asked, desperate to help her troubled sister. "You remember Mama telling us  
  
about all the odd things they have over there."  
  
But Marie only shook her head. "I think maybe she was in America. I tend to remember a  
  
strange looking flag."  
  
Ana yelped in delight. "America!? Oh, my!"  
  
Marie hushed her, her huge blue eyes darting back in their room nervously, as if she expected  
  
her father to come barging in the doors any second. But seeing they remained where they  
  
were, she turned back with a look of relief.  
  
"Why are you dreaming of her, Mashka?" Anastasia asked, picking up a handful of snow and  
  
forming a ball idly between her hands as she glanced at her long haired sister.  
  
"I don't know, Ana. But she will affect us all, I know that now." Marie whispered in reply.  
  
Ana gave out a very unlady-like snort and drew back her arm only to heave the snowball off the  
  
roof and watch wickedly as it smacked into the tree, causing birds to squawk and flee madly  
  
into the night's sky.  
  
"How?" she finally asked, looking around for more snow.  
  
Marie sighed, gathering her sister in her arms as they continued to watch to moon shine  
  
proudly down on them.  
  
"I don't know, Ana. I really don't know."  
  
And with that, the two girl fell into silence, not knowing that soon in time a sudden meeting  
  
would change not only their own lives, but that of their beloved family as well, forever....  
  
  
  
PART 1  
  
Sunnydale, America. 2001.  
  
Buffy sighed in boredom and looked around the dark, deserted graveyard. There wasn't a  
  
vampire in sight. Putting her hands on her hips impatiently she let out a frustrated breath of air,  
  
searching almost desperately for something to kill.  
  
But when she heard female laughter behind her, she quickly spun on her heals; her hands  
  
squeezed into fist and placed in front of her chest.  
  
She frowned when she got a good look at the laughing person's face. "Will, you really shouldn't  
  
sneak up on people like that!" the Slayer told her best friend sternly. "I could have killed you!"  
  
Willow just laughed, walking the rest of the way that separated them and patting Buffy in mock  
  
pity on her arm. "You might be good, Buffy. But you not *that* good."  
  
Buffy sniffed, battering her hand away in a fake insult. But the huge grin she had on her face  
  
gave it all away. The two friends fell into step beside each other as they continued to walk  
  
through the dark cemetery. Finally Buffy turned to Willow and asked,  
  
"Were did you come from anyway?" Her eyes started to scan the distance, searching for her  
  
other friends that she knew where all out there somewhere, patrolling.  
  
Willow stuffed her hands into her parka pockets and jerked her head to the side. "That way  
  
somewhere, I think." She grinned at her friend. "Riley thought we'd get more luck over by the  
  
playground."  
  
Buffy frowned again, not really liking how her boyfriend had seemed to take over the Slaying  
  
from her...not like Angel had.... Buffy stiffened with that thought, shaking her head slightly.  
  
Wouldn't she ever get over him??  
  
"Hey, Buffy!" The familiar cry made both her and Willow turn, the figures of Riley, Tara, Xander  
  
and Anya bringing smiles to their faces as their friends all jogged over to them.  
  
"Did you find anything?" Riley asked, wrapping his hands around Buffy waist and leaning his  
  
head on her shoulder. Buffy bit back a shudder, finding him far to clingy lately. But she didn't  
  
say anything and the small group of friends all headed towards the gateway of the cemetery,  
  
the night's Patrol well and truly over.  
  
"Nah, the place is deserted." Buffy told her boyfriend, heaving the heavy backpack over her  
  
shoulder as they started towards Campus. Inside where bits and pieces she had retrieved from  
  
her mother's house before going on Patrol with her friends: photos and cards, her CD player  
  
and a few CD's that she forgot to pack when she originally had set off for Collage.  
  
Riley saw her discomfit and frowned in concern. "Do you want me to take it?" he asked, ever  
  
the gentleman. But Buffy only bristled and gave him an odd look.  
  
"Rye, I'm stronger than you, I think I can manage." He raised his eyebrows in surprise at her  
  
sharp tone, wondering just what he had done wrong. Buffy saw this and sighed in apology as  
  
they crossed the man street of Sunnydale, the shops dark of any life.  
  
"Sorry, it's been a long night." Riley smiled sadly at this, rubbing her arm.  
  
"And just think, Buff." Xander added helpfully from her side. "You only have to do the exact  
  
same thing tomorrow night!" Buffy laughed and slapped his arm none to lightly.  
  
"Hey!" Anya complained, inspected Xander's arm in concern. "There is only one person who  
  
gets to wack Xander around here, and it most certainly isn't you, missy!"  
  
Buffy held up her hands in defence, trying to hide the grin that she couldn't seem to keep of her  
  
face. "Sorry, Anya." She kept her face serious. "I'll try to remember that in future."  
  
Anya gave a sniff and nodded, excepting her apology, not seeing Willow and Tara cover their  
  
mouths with their hands, the Witches bodies jerking slightly as they giggled.  
  
Xander leered towards Buffy. "If that's the way the river runs, who gets to spank you, huh,  
  
Buffy?"  
  
But any reply she was going to make was cut of as the stunned Xander watched with his own  
  
eyes as his dear friend suddenly gasped in pain and disappeared into thin air, the only trace  
  
she had been standing there seconds before was her muddy footprints in the gutter on the  
  
road...  
  
****  
  
Tsarskoe Selo. St Petersburg, Russia. 1915.  
  
Buffy stumbled, her feet freezing almost instantly as she felt herself standing in knee-deep  
  
snow. Raising her head she looked out desperately into the fields of white nothingness, the  
  
mist making it so she didn't even know where the sky ended and the ground began.  
  
"Whaaat??" she choked, looking around for any sigh of Willow, Xander, and their friends who  
  
had been walking just beside her mere seconds before down the main street of Sunnydale  
  
towards the dorms.  
  
They were nowhere to been found, Buffy finally admitting to herself that she was well and truly  
  
alone out here...wherever here was, she thought. Starting to shiver, the Slayer wrapped her  
  
arms around her body closely, wishing suddenly that she had decided to wear warmer  
  
clothing than the short black Singlet top she was now wearing and her tight leather pants.  
  
She began to walk, where she didn't know, but quickly deciding that anywhere would be better  
  
than the freezing cold she now resided in. But she had yet to take two steps when her feet  
  
crumpled under her and she feel face first into the snow. Being a typical Californian girl that  
  
she was, Buffy wasn't used to having these sort of conditions thrust upon her.  
  
"Shit!" she cried, her voice muffled from the snow as she lifted her now soaked blonde head  
  
from the wetness and brushed the fluffy white snow off her face furiously.  
  
"When I find Giles, I'm gonna kill him." Buffy muttered, getting more madder as the minutes  
  
ticked by and she still continued to stand in the snow, gods knows how far from the nearest  
  
telephone. Seeing that it wasn't any good to move, the slayer looked around her at her  
  
surroundings curiously, searching for people.  
  
"Jeez, it's cold." she whispered, her lips turning blue as she noticed her legs go weaker.  
  
"Whoa, there." she told herself, sinking to her knees on the white covered ground. "What until  
  
Willow hears about this." was her last mutter as she felt her eyes go impossibly heavy and  
  
close, her breathing weak and shallow as the cold started to take affect on her almost  
  
uncovered body.  
  
It was just so cold...  
  
****  
  
Marie closed her eyes again as the Troika flew across the icy grounds, the soft mist of snow  
  
leaving tiny damp kisses on her cheeks, and turning her eyelashes to lace as she listened to  
  
the horses' bells dancing in her ears like music.  
  
Faster...faster, Marie grinned as the driver forced the shining black horses on with his whip  
  
through the snow. As she opened her eyes again, she could see the Village just outside  
  
Tsarskoe Selo. She smiled to herself as she squinted to see the two twin palaces just beyond  
  
it, and pulled back one heavy fur-lined glove to see how much time it had taken to travel home  
  
from St Petersburg.  
  
Looking up, Marie looked out the window again, content to watch the now white trees wizz by  
  
her line of vision as the slay hurried along the road, Marie's belly wishing she was home  
  
already for she knew dinner would soon be on the table.  
  
Then she caught something out of the corner of her eye, a dark bundle in the snow.  
  
"Folkine, stop!" Marie screamed at the driver who instantly rained the whining horses with a yell.  
  
The round old man turned just in time to see the side door fly open and the young Grand  
  
Duchess stumble out onto the deep snow, her ankle length, white dress darkening instantly as  
  
her weight pulled her down into the fluffy white snow.  
  
"Your Highness, wait!" Folkine yelled, quickly making his way off the Troika as well. But Marie  
  
ignored him, struggling to pull her short legs through the coldness as she picked up the end of  
  
her dress and hurried towards the dark bundle lying in the snow. She didn't know what had  
  
come over her, the Duchess knowing only to well what her father - the Tsar - would say to his  
  
beloved daughter tramping over the frozen fields at this time. With the Great War raging around  
  
them, none of them were safe...not that any of the Imperial family thought they would be in  
  
danger.  
  
But this was far from Marie's mind as she struggled over to what she now knew was a figure,  
  
lying frozen in the snow. She was panting in exhaustion as she finally reached it, falling to her  
  
knees beside the unmoving body, causing her long brown hair to come loose from its holdings  
  
and fall around her face.  
  
Reaching out with her now shivering hands, Marie firmly latched onto their shoulder and gently  
  
pulled, causing the small body to roll over on their front.  
  
Marie gasped.  
  
Lying there, her eyes closed in what looked like sleep, was a beautiful blonde girl. Her lips  
  
were blue with the cold, her cheeks having received a pink tinge. Marie gazed on in wonder,  
  
completely unable to tear her huge blue eyes of the girl's enchanting face, her hand slowly  
  
rising from the ground to cover her mouth in shock.  
  
It was the girl from her dreams.  
  
Marie barely noticed Folkine thunder across the snow in her direction and then pause, putting  
  
his huge hands on his knees, gasping for a breath. The driver then stilled, realising for the first  
  
time that his little charge wasn't moving...seemingly content to sit there on her knees in the  
  
freezing snow, her graceful hand held up against her mouth in elegant surprise.  
  
The peasant knitted his thick black eyebrows in a frown, turning his gaze towards the cause of  
  
their current troubles. He swore when he realised the sex of the bundle, sighing in pity. What a  
  
waste to loose such a pretty girl to nature. But knowing instantly that the young Duchess  
  
shouldn't be exposed to such horrors, Folkine eased himself up onto his feet again and  
  
regarded the small Princess at his feet.  
  
He had worked for her grandfather as a boy, and his father had worked for their family before  
  
him. Only for Marie would Folkine discard her parent's instructions and let her sit here, exposed  
  
to the wild and alien environment that she had no part of in her normal life. Only for her would  
  
he risk her father's ire and her mother's silent, elegant displeasure.  
  
But Marie was his favourite of all her sisters and even their little brother...a fact that surprised  
  
them all for everyone loved Alexei, and Folkine had to admit that he found the little  
  
Tsarevich enchanting. Marie might have been his favourite with her large blue eyes and round,  
  
kind face but Alexei was special. Everyone knew that.  
  
But now he only felt pity towards the lovely girl who his wife had helped raise since birth. Slowly  
  
bending his knees, the old man stood behind the soft brown haired girl and laid a comforting  
  
hand on her fur-covered shoulder.  
  
"Come, M'lady." Folkine told the shivering Duchess gently. "She is dead. There is nothing you  
  
can do."  
  
But the words were barely out of his mouth will the sleeping blonde girl moaned and turned her  
  
head to the side feverly.  
  
Marie jerked, falling back on her butt abruptly as she stared, wide eyed, at the figure who was  
  
now weakly sobbing into the snow, her long hair encrusted with snow and her cheeks red from  
  
the cold. The 16-year-old Duchess paled instantly and quickly reached out for the girl, sitting  
  
on her knees and latching her arms under the blonde girl's armpits, attempting to pull her  
  
towards the warmth of the Troika.  
  
Folkine saw her intentions and was by her side in a flash. Stumbling, the tall man gently  
  
pushed Marie out of the way and took her place and with a grunt, heaved the light girl into his  
  
arms. Marie tried not to wince when she saw her head fall lifelessly to the side, her lips  
  
seemingly getting bluer by the minute.  
  
"What does she expect?" Folkine muttered loudly. "Wearing clothing like that in this  
  
weather...it's a disgrace."  
  
Marie started and as they hurried towards the waiting horses, noticed for the first time just what  
  
sort of clothing the dream girl was actually wearing. She dropped her mouth in surprise, her big  
  
blue eyes travelling over her short Singlet and tight leather pants. And as Folkine gently placed  
  
her on the fur covered seat and Marie jumped in beside her, the Duchess reached out with a  
  
curious hand a fingered the rough leather in wonder.  
  
But whatever opinion she was about to master was abruptly cut off as the horses set off with a  
  
slash of Folkine's whip. Wrapping her new companion up in the thick fur blanket that she knew  
  
was under the seat, Marie tightened her grip on the side of the Troika and gazed, unable to  
  
tear her eyes the magickal form of the girl from her dreams.  
  
And as she heard the unmistakable sound of the Cossack Guards stopping the Troika as they  
  
neared the Palace gates, Marie bit her lip in frustration, mentally hoping her father's guards  
  
didn't ask Folkine why they were in such a hurry and check back with her to see just what they  
  
were hiding.  
  
But there was no such luck. She heard the argument that started, and sighing in fury Marie  
  
ignored her sensibility for a moment and jumped up out of her seat...only to poke her brown  
  
haired head out the sleigh window.  
  
The Cossack spun around instantly, spotting her abrupt arrival out of the corner of his eye. But  
  
when he looked closer at not only her face but the quality of her clothes his black eyes opened  
  
wide and he stiffened to attention.  
  
"M'lady?" he asked.  
  
"Would you please get out of the way?" Marie snapped. "My father is expecting me to be home  
  
for dinner and it will be you I send him to if I am late!"  
  
The young man nodded his head slightly, understanding the order. And with a crisp salute he  
  
stepped to the side, barking orders to his men as they followed his lead.  
  
Marie inclined her head gracefully. "Thank you." she told him simply. Seeing that her job was  
  
done, she disappeared back into the Troika, ignoring the confused expression of the young  
  
man's face.  
  
But then Folkine was off again, Marie looking up and across at the impressive twin towers that  
  
were looming over the treetops and they raced through the pure gold gates and down the mile  
  
long drive. She closed her eyes in dread as she spotted the almost impossibly high peaks of  
  
the Alexander Palace as she only just then realised she had no clue what so ever what her  
  
mother was going to say...they had too many sick people to care for as it was because of the  
  
war.  
  
But she quickly tightened her lips together stubbornly; gazing with tender eyes down at the  
  
sleeping, flushed face of the girl she saved.  
  
Marie came from a family who painted history, but in all the luxury and beauty she had seen  
  
over the course of her life in Imperial Russia...it would be this sleeping girl who would change  
  
her life forever.  
  
****  
  
The Empress Alexandra almost had a heart attack when she came flying down the grand  
  
staircase at the raised tone of her third daughter's voice, only to spy Marie standing just inside  
  
the front door with one of their servants, covered from head to toe in snow.  
  
"Mashka!" Alix's displeased voice could be heard vibrating throughout the huge hallway. But  
  
the Tsarina's cool blue-grey eyes opened wide in alarm as she noticed the black bundle in  
  
Folkine's arms.  
  
Marie turned just in time to see her beautiful, elegant mother come gracefully jogging down the  
  
stairs, her floor length violet gown held up by her small, slender fingers to help her move. Marie  
  
smiled lovingly at the dignified vision of Alix, hoping with all her heart that the Tsarina didn't turn  
  
out their new guest.  
  
"Mama, look!" Marie cried, running over to her mother and kissing both her cheeks in greeting.  
  
Alix returned the gesture warmly but her daughter could see she was distracted by whatever  
  
Folkine was still holding in his arms.  
  
Quickly, Marie released Alix and grabbed her silk sleave, pulling her impatiently across to the  
  
now shivering servant and the sleeping girl. Alix smiled at Folkine, telling the uncomfortable  
  
man to relax as she slowly gazed at the beautiful blonde girl in his arms, taking in her red  
  
cheeks and blue lips.  
  
"Who is she, Marie?" The Empress asked her gentle daughter who had walked up hesitantly  
  
behind her. But Marie only shrugged her shoulders, smiling at the silent maid who hurried into  
  
the room suddenly and took her coat, releasing the long mane of light brown hair down her  
  
back.  
  
"I wouldn't have the slightest idea, mama." Marie told the Tsarina. "I saw her lying in the snow  
  
on the side of they road and we stopped and got her." She bristled at her mother's suddenly  
  
displeased expression.  
  
"What was I suppose to do, mama?" Mashka asked. Her voice was never raised, but her  
  
displeasure was easy to read as she looked at her. "Leave her there to die?"  
  
Alix frowned, her cool grey eyes locked on her daughter's soft round face. "Of course not,  
  
Mashka." The Empress told her and she smiled gently when she saw her daughter wince.  
  
Beckoning the short girl over, Alix wrapped her arms around her shoulders and at the same  
  
time, let Folkine up the stairs.  
  
"I am glad you brought her here, although I wish you could have informed us sooner."  
  
Marie didn't answer, only followed her golden haired, German mother down the deserted  
  
hallway. She saw people stop and stare at them as they continued their journey, maids and  
  
such. But she ignored them all, her worried eyes never leaving the frozen girl in Folkine's arms.  
  
The three of them were silent as Alix lead them off down another passage way and stop,  
  
poking her regal head through the door to see if anyone had taken up residence in the chosen  
  
room.  
  
But with a satisfied nod, the Tsarina turned to her daughter and beckoned them both in, Marie's  
  
eyes going impossibly wide when she realised just where they now where.  
  
It was her mother's room.  
  
Noticing the girl's shock, Alix smiled. "It is the only place your father wouldn't look, Mashka."  
  
she told Marie, watching nervously as the silent Folkine eased the sleeping girl down into the  
  
Empress' own bed.  
  
Stepping back, Marie and Alix took his place, the servant bowing respectably as Alix waved her  
  
slender hand towards the door, telling him he could now leave. But as soon as they heard the  
  
click of the door, the two scions began the task of removing her clothes...much to Alix's dismay.  
  
She had taken one look at the Singlet and pants Buffy was wearing after they removed the fur  
  
blanket she had been wrapped in and stepped back in surprise.  
  
"Where did she even get such strange clothing?" The Empress muttered unlady- like, eyeing  
  
the pants she now held in her hands in bewilderment. But Marie only laughed, finding the items  
  
fascinating. With curious hands, she held the Singlet up against herself, not noticing her  
  
mother's frown.  
  
"Don't even think it, Marie." Alix told her in a firm tone but she was still smiling. "Your father  
  
would have a heart attack."  
  
Marie only smiled shyly, running to the armoire only to return with what looked like a dressing  
  
gown. It was made of heavy white brocade silk and had a low square neck. Gently, Alix and her  
  
daughter slipped it over Buffy's narrow shoulders and slowly leaned her back into the huge  
  
bed.  
  
Knowing there was nothing else they could do, the two Russians sat on the side of the bed,  
  
Alix pulling her daughter onto her lap and wrapped her arms around her front lovingly. Marie  
  
sighed at the gesture and leaned her head back against her mother's chest.  
  
They had only been there for a minute or so before they heard the gentle knock on the bedroom  
  
door. Alix jerked, her head flying gracefully towards the barrier. But swallowing, she raised her  
  
chin and said in a crisp voice,  
  
"Yes?"  
  
They both saw the turning of the doorknob as they waited in dread for who was about to  
  
enter, both woman unconsciously expecting their Tsar, Nicholas. But as the sheaf of hair  
  
seemed to precede their visitors they both sighed in relief when the door opened and three  
  
heads poke in curiously.  
  
Olga, Tatiana and even the young Anastasia's mouths fell open when their eyes searched  
  
around the room and finally rested on their mother and sister, sitting on the edge of Alix's bed,  
  
watching the blonde figure who was shifting restlessly in the bed, her head turning from side to  
  
side feverly.  
  
Marie smiled at her sisters, beckoning them over even as they hesitantly left the doorway and  
  
slowly creped over.  
  
They were all so different, Marie mused, eyeing them kindly as the walked over, Tatiana  
  
gripping the short Anastasia's hand in her own.  
  
Olga, the oldest at 20, had dark blonde hair like their mother, icy blue eyes and a short nose of  
  
which she was somewhat self-conscious. A kind person, Marie was always impressed by her  
  
frank, honest manner. Sometimes, however, because she was the oldest, Olga could be a bit  
  
spoiled and was constantly at odds with her mother, Alexandra. She was more close to  
  
Nicholas and got on with him perfectly. A brilliant student, Olga was far better at her studies  
  
than the younger three, and liked to make the fact known by teasing her sisters.  
  
Although not Tatiana, Marie thought sullenly. They never had fights; the two older girls having  
  
best friends since infancy just like her and Anastasia.  
  
Tatiana though, didn't have any excuses why she wasn't as good a student than her older  
  
sister. The 18 year old was only 18 months younger than Olga and was considered the most  
  
beautiful of all Alexandra and the Tsar's daughters. She was tall and slender with long auburn  
  
hair and deep-set grey eyes. Tatiana loved fashion and dressed in all the latest styles. But to  
  
compensate for disliking her studies, the girl was an excellent artist.  
  
With a sad frown Marie had to admit that Tatiana was also very reserved. The shy girl was  
  
always trying to make other friends her own age but they always failed to become close.  
  
Marie smiled as a thought suddenly came to her. Not like Anastasia. The youngest daughter  
  
of the Tsar had always been known as the family comic. She was short, stout, with her father's  
  
blue eyes and her mother's golden hair. Anastasia was also an accomplished mimic, her  
  
humour often touching upon sensitive spots, and she could tease ruthlessly at times. Though  
  
she was quite intelligent, Anastasia preferred climbing trees to her lessons and was fiercely  
  
independent. She was a tomboy and rarely cried. Overall, Ana was a boisterous child who  
  
loved taking pictures of her family with her camera.  
  
But now, as the three girls reached them all Marie felt was love. Olga sat down beside her  
  
mother and Tatiana led the gaping Anastasia over to stand at the end of the bed.  
  
"Is she dead?" Tatiana asked quietly, eyeing Buffy critically. But Alexandra only laughed,  
  
ruffling Marie's long hair with her hand.  
  
"No, Tatia." her mother explained gently. "She's just very sick."  
  
"Wherever did you find her, Mashka?" Olga abruptly asked her sister, reaching out with her  
  
graceful hand and touching Buffy's still arm, seemingly just making sure she was real.  
  
Frowning, Marie battered her hand away protectively.  
  
"Me and Folkine saw her on the way back from St Petersburg." she explained, catching  
  
Anastasia's eye and giving a slight nod.  
  
The girl's eyes flew open in alarm, stepping forward to grip the foot of the bed as she stared  
  
down at Buffy in a whole new light. She mouthed the words, "America?" and Marie smiled  
  
excitedly, this whole exchange going unnoticed by the rest of the family.  
  
"What is father going to say?" Tatiana said in a low voice, glancing at her mother with a sly  
  
grin. But Alix only sniffed, pushing Tatiana away with a laugh.  
  
"I'm sure he would have done the same thing."  
  
Olga coughed, totally disagreeing and her mother gave her an odd look. But whatever further  
  
conversation was going to follow was abruptly cut off as Buffy suddenly moaned, squeezing  
  
her fist into balls.  
  
The five Romanov's all turned to her expectably, waiting excitedly for her to wake up. And  
  
under Alix's watchful gaze, Buffy sputtered and her eyes fluttered open.  
  
She winced at the light, blinking madly to clear her vision. But when she did, the Slayer thought  
  
she was dreaming.... for staring back at her was a beautiful middle aged woman.... and four  
  
enchanting teenage girls, their eyes locked on her.  
  
Buffy blinked in surprise.  
  
*****  
  
PART 2:  
  
Buffy didn't know what the hell was happening. The last thing the Slayer remembered quite  
  
clearly was the endless snow...not to mention just how bloody cold the stuff was. But now, here  
  
she was, toasty warm, laying sprawled out in a very comfortable bed and wrapped in heavy silk  
  
sheets and a duvet.  
  
Overall, it was a very nice place to be.  
  
Save for the five women staring curiously over at her from their various places around the bed.  
  
One in particular, who was sitting in the older woman's arms, was smiling brilliantly at her and  
  
her eyes seemed to sparkle.  
  
Gaping, Buffy scooted up the bed to get away from them, holding the sheets close to her body  
  
protectively. With wide, bewildered eyes she moved over all of them, wishing they would just  
  
stop staring at her and explain who they were.  
  
And as she had read her mind, one of the older girls leaned forward, smiled at the Slayer kindly  
  
and spoke a few quick words the Buffy had never heard before.  
  
Marrying her brows together in confusion, she asked, "What?"  
  
Her response was immediate. The girl's face lit up in charmed surprise before quickly and  
  
effortlessly switching languages. Laughing, she told the baffled Slayer in heavy English, "I'm  
  
sorry, we didn't realise you didn't speak Russian."  
  
Snorting, Buffy crossed her arms across her chest defensively and tried to not think of the  
  
slightly distressing fact that she was obviously laying in one of their beds. "Why in the world  
  
would I speak *Russian* or all languages?" she asked them in an odd tone.  
  
But as if it was obvious, the girl looked quickly at the others before turning back to Buffy.  
  
Speaking with a strong accent that Buffy had strangely not noticed before now, she told her  
  
bluntly...  
  
"Because we *are* Russian."  
  
******  
  
Marie didn't know why the girl was so stunned by Olga's reply, but her mouth fell open and  
  
without a word, she threw back the heavy covers that had before this kept her confined to the  
  
huge bed, and with speed Marie found quite unusual, she jumped out of the bed and sprinted  
  
off across the bedroom in the direction of the large, French windows, making the long  
  
nightgown that she and her mother, Alexandra, had spend ages putting her in fly out behind  
  
her. All of the Romanov woman watched, not quite knowing exactly what to do, as their strange  
  
visitor stopped before the windows and threw them open, completely ignoring the thick blanket  
  
of snow-drops that flew into the bedroom suddenly.  
  
Then she froze, both of her now freezing hands still griping the window latches on either side  
  
so tightly that her knuckles were white. She didn't move, just stood there in the freezing air,  
  
staring out of the palace window down onto the streets of Russia's majestic capital, St  
  
Petersburg.  
  
Slowly, as if she was frightened to scare the bird, Marie got up from her mother's lap and softly  
  
padded across the carpet, wincing as the still wet clothes she had been wearing since the find  
  
slapped against her skin. But trying to ignore it, she reached the suddenly shaking girl and  
  
stood silently behind her, knowing that the rest of her family were watching them from back at  
  
the bed. Reaching out with her delicate hand, she rested it on Buffy's shaking shoulder and  
  
gave her a squeeze of comfort.  
  
The girl's shoulders seemed to sag with the touch and Marie breathed a huge sigh of relief.  
  
Coming to standing beside the slightly taller blonde, the Princess joined her as they both stared  
  
out the window onto their royal village, Tsarskoe Selo and of course, St Petersburg.  
  
The city shone back at them in all its glory, the unmistakable Russian domes of the Cathedral  
  
that was the centre of their lives shooting up proudly into the frozen sky like some mystical  
  
castle of a fairy tale. Looking at the city like this had always held a strange appeal to Marie, she  
  
didn't know why. But it was probably something to do with the fact that no other city in the world could match the simply stunning beauty and elegance that St Petersburg had held since its  
  
founder by her ancestor hundreds of years before.  
  
"Where am I?" The girl suddenly whispered in an awed voice, Marie frowning slightly with the  
  
strange lift in her accent. But not wanting to insult her with what was obviously her native  
  
tongue, Mashka smiled softly and lifted her hand, seeing the slight turn of her companion's  
  
eyes as she too, watched the snow flakes dance beautifully and come to a soft end on her  
  
outstretched palm.  
  
"Your in Russia...do you like it?" Marie couldn't wait for her answer.  
  
But the American didn't reply straight away, her bewildered gaze travelling slowly over the  
  
Golden Gates that separated Tsarskoe Selo from the rest of the city that could just been made  
  
out on the horizon.  
  
"It's the coolest thing I have *ever* seen."  
  
Marie gave a tinkering laugh, not understanding her wording but getting the main idea. But  
  
when the girl suddenly sighed and turned back towards them, she sobered up, putting on a  
  
straight face as she regarded her with critical eyes.  
  
"But that still doesn't explain just *where* I am...not to mention who you guys are." She threw  
  
up her hands in annoyance and slowly made her way back towards the warmth of the bed,  
  
leaving Marie to quickly pull shut the windows behind them.  
  
"The last thing I remember is the snow..." She sent baffled looks around the impressive  
  
Empress' bedroom, noting the large framed originals that hung from the beautifully painted  
  
walls and the impressive drapes and even the large wardrobe that she found on her travels.  
  
Empress Alix just gave a charmed laugh as Buffy finished and sat back down on the bed, up  
  
against the headboard. She sat there, arms crossed once again over her chest, waiting for  
  
someone to explain.  
  
"Marie found you almost catching your death out there in the wilderness..." she smiled gently.  
  
"You would have surely died if not been found."  
  
Buffy gave a sigh and asked bluntly, "Who's Marie? Sorry, I didn't catch your names."  
  
Alix raised her eyebrows in surprise, surely thinking that the girl should know just who they  
  
were, even if she was obviously American. But deciding to indulge the blonde, she pointed one  
  
delicate finger backwards and tapped herself on her chest lightly.  
  
"My name is Alexandra and these are my daughters..." she ruffled Marie's hair and smiled.  
  
"Marie, Olga...and that's Anastasia and Tatiana over there." she replied, jerking her head in the  
  
two silent girls direction from where they sat on the end of the bed, Anastasia leaning her head  
  
up against her sister's shoulder.  
  
Buffy looked at the each in turn, smiling in greeting. "I'm Buffy." she told them quietly, still totally bewildered by the fact that she was here in the first place.  
  
Marie frowned at her name. "Is that your real name? Or is it short for Elizabeth?" she asked,  
  
thinking the obvious. But the Slayer bristled, rolling her eyes.  
  
"No. As weird as it may seem, Buffy's my real name."  
  
The girl raised her eyebrows in surprise, noting that her mother and Olga did the same.  
  
Catching their glances, Buffy smiled and gave a little laugh. "Blame my mother." was all she  
  
said and was strangely accepted by the woman.  
  
The room fell into a comfortable silence before Tatiana quietly spoke up in her soft voice, "Do  
  
you have any recognition as to how you came to be here?"  
  
Buffy just shrugged her shoulders casually, turning to look at the pretty, dreamy eyed girl of 18.  
  
With a sad look on her face, she replied, "No actually. The last thing I remember is walking  
  
down to street with my friends, then bang!...you know the rest."  
  
Alexandra frowned, leaning forward to place the back of her hand gently on Buffy's forehead.  
  
"You must have fainted." she told the girl, at the same time running other possible answers in  
  
her in her head, just the same as Buffy was.  
  
Pulling back, she sighed. "Well, you don't have a fever, so that's good." But then she frowned  
  
at Buffy, putting her hands on her hips. "What were you doing walking around the streets for at  
  
this time of the night? Do you have any idea the danger you could have put yourself in."  
  
Buffy looked at her in surprise. She sounded just like her mother, Joyce. But knowing  
  
Alexandra obviously thought Buffy was talking about being in Russia when she talked, the  
  
Slayer wisely clamped her mouth shut before she revealed too much to her. All she needed to  
  
do was find the nearest link with the Watchers Council and arrange for a plane ticket home to  
  
America so she could yell at Giles for screwing up whatever he had been trying to do behind  
  
her back and accidentally sending her here! She had never really had a yearn to see Russia  
  
anyway, especially now that she had seen just how badly they dressed. They looked like  
  
something out of a history book!  
  
"Especially with the war on..." she smiled a sad smile. "The streets just are not as safe as they  
  
used to be."  
  
Buffy looked at her oddly, not remembering hearing anything about a Russian war on the news  
  
when she did actually get around to watching it. "What war?" she asked them.  
  
They all choked, sending disbelieving looks in her direction. She saw the youngest girl,  
  
Anastasia, she thought her name was, get up from her spot and walk around her side of the  
  
bed, Buffy's eyes glued on her face the whole time. She stopped by the Slayer, leaning forward  
  
so that their faces were just inches away and stared into Buffy's face with her own huge blue  
  
eyes.  
  
"Are you sick or something? What do you mean what war?" she asked bluntly with her childlike  
  
voice. "There has only been one! The Great War of course."  
  
Now, Buffy might not have been very good at history, but if there was one thing that she  
  
remembered from all of her and Willow's study sessions, it was that *that* name was only used  
  
for one war...and that was World War One.  
  
"Pardon me!?" she practically yelled, her eyes popping. But then, as she looked once again at  
  
the five females state of clothing; their long, white dresses that had more lace on them than  
  
Buffy had on her christening dress, their strange manner of speech; so formal and polite...it all  
  
seemed to fall into place.  
  
She moaned, covering her face with her hand, knowing that her problem had just gotten a  
  
whole lot worse.  
  
******  
  
Buffy was not amused.  
  
Of all the things she had had to face of the years of being the Slayer; burning down the gym at  
  
her old school, getting killed by the Master, killing Angel then getting him back..only to lose him  
  
once again down the track...nothing could have prepared her for the shock she felt when she  
  
realised suddenly that she had been thrown back in time.  
  
Not just any time, mind you...but Russia, 1915, in the middle of the bloody First World War.  
  
Over all...the Slayer knew she was screwed.  
  
And here she was, laying in a bed surrounded by four of the loveliest girls she had ever seen  
  
and their mother; people who have just saved her from freezing to death out in the snow where  
  
she had been dumped...trying to decided quickly just how much she should tell them about  
  
who she was.  
  
She had no doubt that they wouldn't have a clue what she was talking about, they already  
  
thought she was mad for having no idea what so ever that there was a war raging around her  
  
ears!  
  
"Ahh, i've been out of touch from normal society for a long time," she told them quickly, as it  
  
was the best excuse she could think up on the spot. "We didn't know anything about a war."  
  
Alix still looked at her in disbelief. "That is the oddest thing I have ever heard, my girl. How long  
  
have you been in Russia?"  
  
Buffy gave an ironic laugh. "Not long, believe me."  
  
Looking over their faces, Buffy stopped on the girl from the window, Marie. She was staring at  
  
her strangely and Buffy had no doubt what so ever that she knew she was lying to her mother.  
  
Wincing, she looked away quickly, turning her attention back to Alexandra who was still  
  
speaking.  
  
"Do you have anywhere to stay?" she asked in her heavy English and the Slayer grimaced,  
  
only then realising that she spoke the truth. She had been so preoccupied by the fact that she  
  
was here in the *first place*, her only thought had been how she was going to get home to  
  
Giles and Willow and the others. But knowing now that might end up taking more time than she  
  
would have originally liked, Buffy shook her head at the kind looking Tsarina.  
  
"No actually."  
  
Anastasia was off the bed in a shot. Clapping her hands, she begged her mother, "Please,  
  
mama? Can Buffy stay here with us?" She stopped, her eyes going wide as she hurried to  
  
make the plans in her head concerning the fact that only her and her darling Marie knew just  
  
who the girl really was.  
  
"She can stay with Mashka, and me mama! Our rooms big enough to fit *all* us girlies!"  
  
Olga chuckled and with the maturity that came with being the oldest, she tried to calm her  
  
youngest sister as Tatiana and Marie looked on smiling. "Don't you think Buffy would like her  
  
own room, Ana? After all, we have over a hundred in the palace, I think it would only be fair."  
  
Anastasia stopped her jumping and sulked, sending pleading glances in the Slayer's direction.  
  
But the bewildered Buffy just looked at Marie again, and although her face was strangely calm  
  
and blank of any emotion, Buffy could tell that she too, wanted desperately for her to take up  
  
her little sister's offer...but for reasons that were totally different from Anastasia's.  
  
Not taking her eyes of Marie's face, Buffy slowly nodded her head. "Sure, Ana. I'd love to sleep  
  
in your room." Then quickly, she looked at the grinning Tsarina and added quickly, "Only if  
  
that's alright with you, of course."  
  
But Alexandra only smiled and nodded her head. "Of course it is, my girl."  
  
Anastasia gave a yelp and started to jump up and down again, then quickly rushed over to  
  
Buffy and threw her arms around her neck and gave the baffed Slayer a huge hug and three  
  
Russian kisses; one to either check then a quick peck on her lips.  
  
"This is going to be great!" she raved. "You'll see!"  
  
Buffy just looked sadly at the excited 14 year old, smiling softly as her long hair flew out behind  
  
her as she spun around in circles. It only then figured to the American that she didn't really  
  
know any thing about this family except their first names. Although deep down she knew she  
  
probably wouldn't be here long enough *to* learn anything about this beautiful family, she did  
  
know she would miss them already when she found a way back to her world...not that she had  
  
the first clue how she was going to do that yet.  
  
Anastasia abruptly halted when there was a crisp knock on the door. Alexandra turned her  
  
head gracefully towards it and asked, "Yes?"  
  
The door slowly opened and Buffy saw a timid, young, black haired girl enter the room and  
  
walk briskly across the floor to where the Tsarina was sitting. Bending down, she whispered  
  
something in Alix's ear and then straightened. The Empress' face brightened suddenly as she  
  
waved the maid out of the room. Standing, she turned to the five girls and looked mostly to her  
  
daughters as she told them all,  
  
"Baby's awake." She stood quickly and helped Buffy out of the bed, producing a thick, floor  
  
length dressing gown for the baffled girl and eased it over her shoulders.  
  
"Come." she told the Slayer as Marie and her sisters all hurried to the door. "I'd like you to meet  
  
the other members of our family."  
  
*****  
  
As the Empress gently hurried the Slayer out the bedroom door, Buffy got the first glimpse of  
  
the home that she would be staying in until she found away to get home to the 21 century.  
  
If you could call it a home, that is.  
  
It was more like a castle.  
  
A palace to be exact. As the hurried down the hallway, the other girls already out of sight, Buffy  
  
gaped at the shear size of the place. To her guess, they were on the third story, the huge grand  
  
staircase winding its way down to the biggest marble floored foyer Buffy had ever seen. It was  
  
bigger than her entire *house*.  
  
There were closed doors everywhere, the roof higher than a church's and the chandlers that  
  
fell from them bigger than her and Willow's bedroom back at the dorms. It was simply the  
  
beautiful and grandest place she had ever seen.  
  
Knowing she would just *have* to give herself the tour later, Buffy let to Empress guide her  
  
down the corridor and through a door at its end. Looking up, she knew instantly that this was a  
  
child's bedroom, the blue walls and toys that scattered the floor evidence of that. Looking  
  
around, she saw the four girls all gathering around a small bed that was in the corner of the  
  
pretty room, talking and laughing with whoever was in it.  
  
Buffy caught a quick glimpse of a man sitting on a chair at the bedside through Tatiana's dress  
  
before he vanished again. But when the girls suddenly parted and he stood up, Buffy didn't  
  
catch his face instantly. But then, as he started to walk towards her and Alix, she looked  
  
up...and found herself staring up and the kindest, gentlest face she had ever seen.  
  
Stunned into silence, she watched the dignified man reach them and embrace Alix, giving her a  
  
loving hug and a kiss on the forehead. Buffy could tell instantly that the two of them were  
  
deeply in love. But when he turned his gaze of her, his eyes sizing her up and down before  
  
smiling, she had no idea that standing before her was one of the most powerful men in the  
  
world. A figure who made history to her and her generation, but who stood there now in flesh  
  
and blood. He was the Autocratic man who ruled one sixth of the globe...the Tsar of all Imperial  
  
Russia.  
  
"Hello." he told her quietly, picking up her hand gently to place a kiss of its surface.  
  
"My lovely wife tells me that we have a visitor staying with us."  
  
Buffy blushed, ducking her head. But the man only chuckled, placing a finger underneath her  
  
chin and pushing it up, forcing her to lock eyes.  
  
"It's fine, my girl. A pleasure, even." He smiled again before suddenly bowing in front of her  
  
gracefully. Straightening up, he told the strangely silent Slayer...  
  
"Its a charming pleasure to have such a beautiful American staying in my household...My name  
  
is Nicholas. Nicholas Romanov."  
  
And Buffy felt her blood run cold.  
  
******  
  
Buffy never thought she was overly good at history; it was one of her worst subjects actually.  
  
But there was one topic that she remembered quiet clearly...having Willow there to teach it to  
  
you did that, she figured.  
  
And that was the Russian Revolution.  
  
She knew the name Nicholas Romanov, or course, who didn't? And as she stood there, her  
  
now terrified eyes locked on his own gentle ones, she knew how this story would play out...And  
  
most importantly...  
  
...she knew the horrifying ending.  
  
The figure in the bed caught her attention and she jerked her hand out of Nicholas' grasp.  
  
Turning her head quickly, she was stunned to see a little boy, no older than 11, laying there  
  
watching her silently. He had the face of an angel. Blonde hair and shinning blue eyes stared at  
  
her curiously.  
  
She knew before asking that this little boy, lying weakly in the bed, was the centre of this  
  
family's lives. She knew that his sisters worshipped him and that he was his parent's pride and  
  
joy.  
  
"Hello." he said, simply like his father. "I'm Alexei. Are you going to be staying with us?"  
  
Buffy didn't reply, she couldn't. And it was at that moment that she knew she didn't want to be  
  
here; she would rather be anywhere else but here. To see this little boy's shining face, his  
  
delicate fingers gently gripping around hers when she slowly sank down in the chair that  
  
Nicholas had been sitting in moments before, and to know that it would be him, this boy who  
  
seemed to be bathed in sunshine, who would be the direct link that destroyed his father's  
  
reign...and his beloved family's deaths.  
  
For she knew, that in just over three years time, this family would be the centre of one of the  
  
greatest murders, the greatest *mysteries* the world have ever seen.  
  
And the Slayer closed her eyes in dread. 


	2. Russia with Love

PART 3:  
  
Buffy silently closed the door behind her after she said goodbye to Marie and her sisters who had kindly left her on her own for a while, seemingly to get a grip of what had happened. Even if they had no clue what so ever of how much Buffy actually knew about their family and their future, they had all seem from her reaction to Nicholas and Baby, as the family seemed to call Alexei, how much the meeting had shocked the girl. And the Slayer had to admit they were correct, she couldn't have gotten out of that room fast enough. She had been quite certain that one more word from Alexei and she would have collapsed and blurted out the whole darn mess.....which had upset the Slayer excessively for she had always prided herself on being the kind of girl who, in her words, *did not cry*.  
  
Buffy's shoulder's sagged in the long sleaved night-gown that she was still wearing. Leaning up against the door with a sigh she closed her eyes tightly, trying to will away the tears that she knew were threatening to fall.  
  
How in the *world* did the Powers expect her to do this? Live with these wonderful people who she knew where going to eventually die? How did she tell those four lovely girls that none of them would live past their 23rd birthday?  
  
And that darling little boy?....  
  
The Slayer moaned, pushing herself off the large door and making her way silently over to one of the three beds that she suddenly realised where in the room. Blinking, Buffy plonked herself down and looked around the large, old fashioned bedroom, not being able to stop the gentle smile that slowly appeared on her face as she took in the surroundings.  
  
The room that she would be sharing with Marie and Anastasia was simple and austere. She had found out from Alexandra that, like their other sisters, the "little pair" of the family had plain iron beds and crisp white sheets, just as all the daughters of the Tsars of history had done. Buffy found it amazing that such every day activities could have been passed down from so many generations. But apart from that, their bedroom was just as she had expected one to be for girls of their station in this period of time. There was a small desk in the corner and the borders and ceiling of the room were painted a soft pink, flowers and leaves circling the whole roof.   
  
Quietly looking around with wide eyes, Buffy spied a large fireplace which, when she gracefully stood and walking over to it, she saw that on it, was a neat row of delicately-made Easter eggs. Marie must have kept them from year to year, the Slayer mused, thinking they must be presents from her sisters or given to her by her friends. They were malachite, and wood, and some of them were beautifully carved or encrusted with stones.   
  
"How gorgeous..." Buffy whispered, stepping back from the fireplace as she turned around, taking the room in fully. The children's rooms, as she found they were still called, showed none of the opulence or luxury of their parents rooms, or the rest of the Palaces.   
  
She came to the conclusion that she could seriously get used to living in such a charming bedroom, which if she was honest with herself, she had to admit was bigger than the entire bottom floor or her mother's house.  
  
"But you won't be living here for much longer, Buffy." She suddenly muttered, giving her head a firm shake. "Just as soon as you can find a way home, your gonna be out of here."  
  
But even coming from her own lips, the Slayer knew those words sounded incredibly weak. For she knew, after finding out just who the people really were who she was staying with, she couldn't just up and leave them. Not when she was quite certain their was something she could do to help them.  
  
"But do I dare?" She whispered to the empty room.  
  
"And that, miss Summers, is just the question you *should* be asking yourself."  
  
Buffy spun on her heals, mentally cursing the night gown that limited her movement, her arms up in a obvious fighting position. Which, she realised, must look rather ridiculous with the clothes she was wearing.  
  
Only to find herself face to face with someone who she *really* didn't think she would ever see again.  
  
******  
  
She blinked.  
  
Then sighed in annoyance, letting her hands flop to her sides.  
  
"What do *you* want?" she growled, her hands coming back up to rest on her hips as she glared daggers at the annoying half-demon who was leaning up against Anastasia's bed frame, his arms crossed in a similar fashion to her's, along with his ankles.  
  
Whistler grinned, glad that the Slayer was in the exact same shape she had been in when he had last seen her in Sunnydale all those years ago. Although that nightie....  
  
"Buffy, Lov." he drawled, taking his hat off to her mockingly before straightening, giving the Slayer a leering smile. "*Love* the outfit."  
  
As soon as the words were out of his mouth the demon realised the Slayer was *not* in the mood for jokes. Fire flashed through her jade eyes as she stalked across the floor, giving Whistler no time to make a run for it.  
  
Before he knew what was happening, she had reached out with one strong hand and delivered such a forceful slap to his check that the messenger rocked back on his heals, gripping the Grand Duchess' bed for balance.  
  
Not bothering for his response, the slayer screamed at him with passion that surprised even herself, "WHAT THE *HELL* ARE YOU GUYS PLAYING AT!? DO YOU HAVE *ANY IDEA* WHO THOSE PEOPLE ARE!?"  
  
Whistler blinked, stepping back with the force of her words. He had known the Slayer was gonna be pissed, but this?....  
  
"THOSE PEOPLE ARE GOING TO DIE!! DO YOU GET THAT!? THEY. ARE. GOING. TO. DIE. AND YOUR MAKING ME WATCH IT!! HOW SICK ARE YOU!?"  
  
"Buffy, that's enough!" Whistler snapped, calling her to order when he had finally had enough of her words. All traces of humour gone, the Messenger for the Powers That Be straightened his jacket, gave himself a mental and physical shake before continuing.  
  
He raised his eyes to the Slayer's face, fully expecting to see her flushed and flustered from her screaming. What he didn't except to find were the tears pooling down her checks as she hic-upped, her blonde hair dancing around her head like some kind of weird halo from the gods.  
  
He stared at her, completely and utterly stunned at her appearance. It was only then that he started to wonder if she would actually be able to handle this little assignment or not....  
  
"Jesus, Buffy." Whistler breathed, wondering just how he was going to proceed now. But Buffy answered that question for him, sitting down on Anastasia's small, soft bed and burying her face in her hands as she took a few huge, slow breaths to try and calm herself down. Whistler waited respectfully, running his hand up and down her back soothingly before he realised just what he was doing and who was actually touching. He almost snatched his hand back, but knowing that Buffy was in shock, and desperate for familiar surroundings, he continued his actions, somehow strangely aware that she was grateful.   
  
After a few minutes of silence, Buffy sighed and again raised her head, which Whistler noted was free of tears, even if her eyes were still rather red from crying.  
  
She looked up at him with those wise, powerful eyes that he had respected so much from afar and asked in a soft, weak voice,   
  
"Why am I here, Whistler?"  
  
Slowly, the demon redrew his hand, which Buffy didn't even seem to notice him do, and took a seat beside her. They weren't facing each other but he could see out of the corner of his eye that she was watching him right back, her hands forming tight little balls in her lace and silk covered lap.  
  
Finally, the messenger turned his head and face the young Slayer, knowing as he looked her up and down, just how hard this was going to be for her. She seemed so strong on the outside, but on the inside? It was as if she had deliberately placed a protective wall up inside herself so that no one could really reach her and see just how must of a frightened and lonely little girl she was.  
  
Not since Angel had she let any one in so close, not even Willow....  
  
That name made him jerk ever so slightly, reminding him of his quest and what he had to do.   
  
And he knew that what he was about to tell her would break her heart.  
  
*****  
  
"There is something we need you to do, Buffy." Whistler began, then mentally cursed at such a lame beginning. But she didn't seem to notice, only turned in his direction with a cute little frown of confusion on her face.  
  
"What do you mean by that?" she asked in a small voice.  
  
Whistler looked back down, not being able to look her in the eye as he told her. "Its a quest. A journey if you will, that the Powers had chosen you for." He smiled at her when she opened her mouth to argue the point. Beating her to it, the demon explained.   
  
"You were chosen before your birth, Buffy. So don't go blaming me for any of this."  
  
If anything, that only made her even more confused. Giving the Slayer's knee a quick pat, Whistler gestured for her to get comfortable on the bed. The demon leaned back against the headboard so that they were now facing each other, Buffy at one end of the bed and Whistler at the other.  
  
Folding his hands in his lap, he looked up into her eyes, knowing how important it was that she remember all that he was about to say.   
  
"It's a child, Buffy." he told her quietly. "You have to find a child."  
  
She wrinkled her nose up in confusion. Gesturing around her, she asked in a disbelieving tone, "Here?"  
  
Whistler laughed, glad that she was seeing this with good spirit. "Yes." He was instantly serious again. "It's a *very* important child, who must be guarded with the utmost care."  
  
She frowned. "Important to who?" Buffy asked, folding her arms across her chest.  
  
But the demon only gave her a gentle smile. "They will be important to all of us."  
  
Silence fell over the room before the Slayer suddenly asked. "Well, what's this got to do with me, for gods sake. I can't believe you chucked me through time to find some kid." She threw her hands into the air. "Where the hell did *that* come from? Are you trying to tell me this is the reason i'm here in the first place? All you had to do was ask, I probably would have done it anyway." She looked away and snorted.   
  
"If you wanted someone to travel back in time I'd have to tell you that your best hope would have been Willow."  
  
Whistler's response to that was strange. He didn't smile, or frown, or make any new expression, only stared across at her with the same wise mask he had always seemed to carry around.   
  
Finally getting a bit fed up with it all, Buffy jumped off the bed, suddenly nervous, and started to pace the room, unconsciously hoping that Marie or one of the others didn't happen to come in and catch her talking to some strangely dressed man on Anastasia's bed.   
  
She stopped abruptly.  
  
Spinning back in Whistler's direction she frowned. "What has this got to do with the Romanovs, or all people? Okay, so the kid's in Russia, I get that much. But if you wanted me to be fully concentrated on the job, why saddle me with these guys?" she cocked her head to the side, giving him a knowing look.  
  
"You would have had to know I would have gotten attached to them, to know whats gonna happen to them at least."  
  
The messenger only shook his head, reaching out to grasp her hands in his. "The child will be *found* through them, Buffy. They will help you, even if they don't know they're doing it."  
  
Buffy chewed on her lip. "What's this kid so important for anyway?" she asked, although she didn't really expect Whistler to tell her the answer. She wasn't disappointed.  
  
He once again leered at her. "Now, Slayer, you of all people should know I can't tell you that." Looking up into the ceiling, the messenger seemingly made a decision about something for when he turned back down again, there was a new light in his eyes when he locked his gaze with Buffy's. Smiling softly, he tried to explain to her.   
  
"From this little child will grow a new branch of life that will safe us hundreds of times over." Looking seriously into her eyes, he informed her frankly,   
  
"If something happens to this child and it dies. Then we die."  
  
Buffy sighed, stepping away from the bed again. Looking around, she walked over to the fireplace and idly picked up one of Marie's jewelled Easter eggs, ignoring Whistler's frown when she began tossing it back and forth between her two hands unconsciously.  
  
But when something suddenly clicked in her head, the Slayer turned back to the demon in confusion. "But that means we will already be dead in the future...doesn't it?"  
  
Standing up, he joined her, gently taking the egg out of her hands and placing it back in its crystal stand. "Its a cicle, Slayer." he told her. "A cicle that goes on and on and on." he cocked his head at her and with a grin, informed her, "This isn't the first time you've done this, Buffy."  
  
Seeing her confused look, Whistler just laughed. "You will understand all in good time, Slayer."  
  
Then he gently took her by the arm and lead her over to the huge French windows, where they stood, looking down into the majestic city of St Petersburg.   
  
Not looking in her direction, when he spoke his voice was soft, seemingly regretful. "This isn't going to be easy, Buffy, i'm not going to lie to you...."  
  
He broke off, tilting his head to get a better view of her calm face. "You know you can't go home until you find it."  
  
She didn't answer, seemingly already coming to the same conclusion. She only gave a brief nod of her head and looked down at the floor, not wanting him to see the tears that we threatening to fall. He saw this and sighed, letting his head fall up against the window pane with a slight thump that vibrated through the silent room.   
  
"The Powers have found a way to fix that, though." he said in a simple tone, as if it was the most casual thing in the world. Buffy cocked her head and stared at him in confusion which only made him grin slightly.  
  
Raising his eyebrows in question he asked her, "How do you feel about being immortal?"  
  
She blinked.   
  
"Excuse me?" the Slayer asked disbelievingly, her mouth falling open charmingly in surprise.  
  
He wiggled his eyebrows. "You know; never get old, don't have to worry about grey hair or getting killed, immortal." The half demon shrugged. "It's not a bad life, actually."  
  
But she didn't seem to hear him, still stuck on the immortal bit. "Your...you made me immortal?" she whispered, her eyes glittering as a whole new world of opportunities suddenly opened up before her.  
  
He nodded. "Well, not me exactly, my bosses did all the dirty work."  
  
She choked, bringing her hands to cover her forehead, looking like she was going to faint any second. Frowning, he took a step in her direction, hands out stretched to catch her if she *did* fall, but she only waved him away, turning her back on him to stare out the window again, a thousand thought running through her powerful head. Still facing away from him, she whispered softly so that he barely heard her, "When I go back...will I, ahh...I mean, will I still be..."  
  
"Yes, Slayer." he told her, sensing just how serious she was taking this, and just why...or *who* was taking up all her thoughts with her new status. "It is your reward." Whistler laughed when she snorted.   
  
"The Powers aren't bad guys all the time, you know. They know how much this will mean to you...to the both of you."  
  
She didn't bother correcting him, why should she? He knew better than most just how deep her and Angel's relationship ran. Even if she was with Riley now...she closed her eyes suddenly in dread, thoughts of her current boyfriend swimming to the top for the first time since she got here. But instantly she pushed the annoying barriers away. She would deal with *him* when she got back. The thought almost made her burst out laughing. She was back in a time before Riley's....or her own for that matter....grand parents were even born and she was debating the ways to break up with him. She knew he wasn't going to take it very well, but what did he *really* expect? For her to stay with him, especially now since she was immortal, when she could have her soulmate to share all eternity with?  
  
And it was that thought that she knew she must hold close to her for the time she would be staying here in Russia. For she knew, if she could get though this; live with the thought that the wonderful family that she was going to be staying with was going to die...that those four beautiful teenage girls that she had grown so close to already in the few hours that she had been here where not going to get the oppotunity to grow up and get married, not to mention find the child and deliver it safely to Whistler and return home to her friends, there would be a whole new life waiting for her when she got back.  
  
Looking up, she reached out and touched him softly on his shoulder, getting his attention just as the snow drops started to dance down from the heavens once again. He looked up, knowing what she was about to say deep in his heart.  
  
Their were tears in her eyes when they meet gazes. But no regret. No annoyance at being picked for this task. She, better than anyone, knew how the Power's worked. She knew this wasn't something she could just ignore....and live.  
  
Swallowing, she whispered softly, "Tell me friends..." The Slayer broke off, both of them knowing why. What was she meant to say? How could she possibly explain to them of the incredible journey she knew she was about to take part in. And who knew when she would see them again? It could be days, months, even years before she found this prodigal child she was now searching for and was allowed to return to her own time.  
  
She knew now how Angel must have felt.....  
  
That thought almost made her burst into tears. Looking up, her face was wise, hidden, as she whispered once again,   
  
"Tell my friends I love them."  
  
She stopped abruptly, not knowing how to continue. Then suddenly she reached up behind her neck with her hands and unclasped the necklace she had been wearing, only to gently lay it in Whistler's warm palm. Looking down, the demon saw a large, silver cross, and instantly recognised it.  
  
He slowly raised his head, meeting her powerful, wilful gaze with equal force.   
  
"Tell Angel I will come back to him." She gripped his hands tightly...desperately. "Please tell him I love him and I will come back."  
  
Whistler said nothing, there was nothing left to say, and nodded his head in promise. They gazed at each other, two souls in a time that they didn't belong, both wanting nothing more than to return to their own.  
  
But only one would be going home.  
  
The other was doomed to search to world for the rest of her life, if need be, for a child who she wasn't sure even existed yet. And would be forced to watch the murder of the family who history and fate had ordered to help her.  
  
"History is your tool, now, Buffy." Whistler suddenly spoke up in a strong voice. "You know what is to happen, therefore *you* will make all the rules." They locked eyes, both understanding the hidden meaning to that comment...If she dared spear the lives of her new found friends.  
  
She looked down, not wanting to think about that. But when she felt Whistler give her a friendly pat on her shoulder she looked up, giving him one last smile, which he softly returned.  
  
"Good luck, kid."  
  
He told her.  
  
Before disappearing into thin air.  
  
*****  
  
Ten minutes later Buffy heard a soft, almost hesitant knock on the bedroom door. Quickly standing up from the bed, she urgently wiped the tears from her eyes and tried to straighten her hair and clothes, finding it absurd that she was still wearing the bloody night dress while desperately trying to make it seem like nothing out of the ordinary had gone down in the bedroom just minutes before.   
  
Turning to face the polished, wooden door, the Slayer called a soft "Come in." and braced herself for the questions she was certain were going to follow. After all, it was *she* who had been screaming her lungs out at Whistler, not really noticing that the walls had probably been eagerly taking in all she had said.  
  
But as Tatiana's gentle face poked though the doorway, the chosen one breathed a huge sigh of relief, obviously thinking that it would have been Alexandra's curious head that would be questioning her.  
  
"Are you alright, Buffy?" The 18 year old asked, silently closing the door behind her and gracefully floating across the floor, the Slayer finding herself in complete awe with the Grand Duchess' beauty. She had already come to the conclusion that it was Tatiana who was the darling of the girls, her mother's favioute. She was everything a daughter of the Tsar should be; graceful to the extent of a dancer, beautiful as a rose, her long urburn hair falling silkily down her back and her wise, gentle grey eyes taking in everything and everyone in the room. Tatiana was the social butterfly of the family, Buffy had guessed from the first second she had met her. But with all her beauty also came problems. She was painfully shy.   
  
Around her family she was fine, the sisters actually calling her the "Governess" of the family. It anything needed to be asked from their parents it would be Tatiana who was chosen to ask them. She was exceedingly persuasive, her father proudly telling everyone that she could change the mind of the sternest army General in battle. But around people she didn't know....  
  
Buffy grimaced, wondering if there was anything she could do to help the girl with that. Buffy, of course, wasn't in the least bit shy. She only hoped that she would be around her company long enough and maybe her shyness would start to fade...  
  
But she *wouldn't* be around the Slayer for very long, Buffy reminded herself, not being able to met the girl's eyes as she took a seat beside her as Buffy slowly sake onto Anastasia's bed once again. For in just over three years time she would be dead....  
  
Buffy turned her head away, feeling incredibly sick. Of all the death that she had been around in her time as the Slayer, it would be this one that she knew she wouldn't be able to handle. If there was only something she could do to help them....  
  
"Buffy?"  
  
The Slayer snapped her head up, meeting Tatiana's concerned gaze innocently, hoping the girl hadn't sensed any of her dark thoughts.  
  
Sighing, she gave the Duchess a reassuring smile that didn't seem to reach her eyes. "Im fine, Tatiana, really."  
  
The girl didn't seem very convinced, but she let it pass. It was then the Buffy suddenly realised that she had no idea about Whistler's visit. She had been terrified that they would have heard her shouting though the walls, but from the look on the younger girl's face, Buffy knew they hadn't any idea. There was no curiosity written anywhere on her features. Buffy let out a relieved breath, thankful for one thing she wouldn't have to explain.  
  
Tatiana Nicholaievna thankfully didn't see this as she slowly rose from the bed, only to stand in front of the Slayer, causing Buffy to crain her neck to see her face, only to notice the girl was standing there with her hands on her hips, grinning mischievously.  
  
Inclining her head to the side, causing her loose hair to fall over her right shoulder with the movement, she giggled and asked the curious Slayer,  
  
"How about we get you out of those clothes?"  
  
Buffy looked dumbly down at the night dress she still wore, only then realising that Tatiana had changed from when she had saw her slightly earlier in Alexei's room. The dress she now wore was more formal, indicating that something important was about to happen. It had cut off shoulders, that from the walk to and back form Baby's room, Buffy had noticed most Russian woman wore in the Palace, the curves dipping daringly into her breast. It was white, with sleaves that abruptly ended half way down Tatiana's forearms, only to be replaced later down by high white arm gloves. It was rather simple in design, the folds not really curving at all, just comfortably flaring ever so slightly at her waist, and down to her ankles where her white slippers could be seen. Looking closer she could she a sash of some sort had been tied around her waist, the light purple colouring contrasting wonderfully with the rest of the while evening gown.  
  
Over all, Buffy thought it was the most beautiful dress she had ever seen.  
  
Tatiana blushed when she saw Buffy staring at her, nervously rubbing her hands at the side of her dress. Buffy grinned, seeing what she was doing and jumped up off the bed, feeling sorry for the girl. Looking up at her new found friend, Buffy asked, "Do I really get to wear one of those?"  
  
Tatiana just smiled and laughed, a sound Buffy instantly adored, gently taking the Slayer's arm in her's and leading her across the room and out the door. They didn't walk very far, just across the hallway actually, but to Buffy, it seemed a mile. She couldn't stop staring at the impressive art work and designs that seemed to be printed everywhere in the gigantic white palace.   
  
But when Tatiana opened the door without knocking and walked right in, dragging Buffy with her, the American instantly sensed a totally different atmosphere in this room than the hallway they had just come from. Like Marie and Anastasia's room, Olga and Tatiana's was simple and child-like, even though the girls were both in their late teens. It was huge, both their beds separating the room into two equal spaces. Pressed up against one wall were something Buffy hadn't seem in the younger girl's room, two changing screens, the black oriental designs around the outline looking very exotic with the rest of the obviously Englishy room.   
  
Marie had told Buffy earlier that Alexandra, who was a grand daughter of the British Queen Victoria, had been determined that her daughters grow up in a English environment, which obviously meant carpets on the floor and stuffed cushions in the many arm chairs and sofas that were filtered through the daughter's bedrooms. But Buffy decided she liked it, it reminded her somewhat of Giles' place in a way, something that comforted her greatly.  
  
She spied the three other girls instantly, the 14 year old Anastasia Nicholaievna was standing on what Buffy guessed to be Olga's bed, spinning around as fast as she could, obviously trying to see how far out she could get her dress to flair. She was dressed in a gown similar to her sister's but it was more covering, and not as low cut at the front. The sash around the middle was also light blue, not purple as Tatiana's had been.  
  
Marie was standing at the foot of the bed, looking up at her younger sister with a frown on her expressive, pretty face, a hair brush in the hand that wasn't on her hip.  
  
"Ana, get off!" she scolded, reaching for her sister's long golden hair in a vain idea to *drag* the girl of the bed and finish getting ready. But Anastasia wasn't having any of it, she just ignored her sister and continued spinning.  
  
Following Tatiana, Buffy saw Olga sitting at a vanity, desperatly sorting through a small, silver jewellery box. A silent maid was behind her, pinning up her long dark blonde hair in a style that Buffy saw was identical to how Tatiana and Marie were wearing theirs. It must be something to do with their ages, she mused, wondering why Anastasia wasn't wearing her loose, flowing locks up as well.  
  
The eldest daughter looked up as they approached, a delighted smile instantly appearing on her face, making her blue eyes light up. Spinning around, she jumped off the chair and rushed towards them, taking her sister's hands in her's when she reached them in greeting. Giving Buffy a huge smile she giggled and clapped her hands.  
  
"Your here!" Olga cried happily, reaching out to grip the bewildered Slayer's arm just as Tatiana let go of it and dragged her across the room. Tatiana followed slowly after them, chuckling softly with her sister's enthusiasm. As they reached what Buffy realised was a wardrobe her eyes went wide, taking in the rows and rows of silk, satin and other masses of material that seemed to jump out on them as Olga quickly pulled the sliding doors open for inspection.  
  
Turning to the suddenly wary Slayer, she smiled and explained. "Mama told us about the clothes you were wearing when Mashka found you, that how you'd probably lost them on the way, or something, so we girls decided that since you are to being staying with us you should feel free to borrow as *many* clothes as you wish until we can get you a fitter in to make you some of your own."  
  
Buffy winced, feeling awkward. Moving her feet, she sputtered, "You don't need to do that, really. I don't want to be a nuisance."  
  
Olga dismissed her haughtily, waving her hand in the air. "Don't be silly, Buffy." she told her, giving her arm a quick squeeze as she smiled kindly. "We girls all share our clothes between us, and since you are about the same size as me and Tatty, it would be silly not to share them with you as well."  
  
Grudgingly, Buffy had to admit she had a point. Especially since if she was meant to be searching for the Child, she would need some clothes to be able to mix into this society. Seeing her new friends agreement, Olga Nicholaievna grinned brilliantly and turned back to the clothes, muttering to herself unconsciously as she rummaged through them for the perfect outfit for the beautiful young Slayer.  
  
She finally settled on a light blue satin gown, with white lace around the hem. It had at least three layers of meshy lace stuff on the front, and criss-cross pattens down the sides and across her breasts, which, like Tatiana's, were daringly shown in the typical Russian shoulderless gown. It fell to the floor, and when her arm gloves were placed on, Buffy had to admit she had never liked her reflection more. Her hair was up like the three older girls, a style that it was placed in without any consent of her own. She wore practically no make-up, and the only jewellery she had been given was a strand of pearls Marie had lovingly handed to her, and a pair of Tatiana's emerald earings.  
  
By the time the jewellery had come, all four of the girls and their separate maids had stopped what they were doing and pitched in with getting her dressed. They had been amazed that she knew so little about the topic, Marie quietly promising the American that she would teach her how to tie a corset, something that made Buffy wince in dread. She had heard far to many horrid stories about those things to get into any happy mood about them, especially if they were going to be rearranging her internal organs, which she had heard they could sometimes do.  
  
But at last, she was finished, the Slayer hardly recognising herself as Anastasia led her over to the full length mirror she hadn't even noticed before. As she stood their, her mouth slightly open in awe, the four girls all gathered around her, Anastasia wrapping her arms around her neck and giving her a big hug for a job well done. The five teenagers all stared at the mirror, their faces all reflecting a mixture of happy smiles and proud grins as they took in their appearance, four of them content to live like this, their lives blissfully happy and innocent in the very heart of an imperial Russia that would soon disappear forever. A missing Atlantis never to be seen again.  
  
*****  
  
Buffy nervously gripped Marie's hand as they were led down the *huge* staircase that separated the family apartments from the rest of the private rooms and across a glittering white hallway. She looked down at the red carpet that the silent butler was leading the five girls across, wondering just where it ended in this endless maze of rooms...if ever.  
  
Suddenly she found herself in a dining room, the roaring fireplace toasting her already rosy skin. In the centre of the room was a long, polished wooden table that looked like it seated about 12 or so people. She noticed Nicholas and Alexandra were already seated, the gentle Tsar rising instantly when the five girls entered the room. He caught Buffy's eye and smiled warmly, telling her in a way that she was very much welcome at his table.  
  
"Papa, don't you think Buffy looks wonderful?" Marie asked her father as he bent down and kissed her check. Buffy blushed, but Nicholas had a mischievous twinkle in his eye as he straightened.  
  
"Yes, Mashka." he answered his third born. "She looks beautiful."  
  
Alix chuckled, patting the seat beside her for the Slayer to take as her own. As Buffy slowly sank into the chair - still not used to the clothing - she noticed Alexei sitting right opposite her. She scrunched up her nose at him and quickly poked out her tongue, causing the little blonde boy to giggle in surprise and return the gesture. She noticed he was wearing a sailors suit and she had to admit it made him look even more adorable, the blue lining bringing out the twinkle in his eyes.  
  
She looked around as the other girls took their places, all the servants suddenly bowing slightly and leaving the room. She was surprised, from what she had seen on tevleision about upper-class family during meal time, she had thought they were always present. But looking at each of their faces, seeing how the all instantly relaxed as the last of the doors were closed and they were left alone, Buffy was struck with just how *ordinary* this family was and how much they reminded her of when her, her mother and Dawn had all used to sit down for a nice family dinner.   
  
It didn't matter that the head of the family was one of the greatest men in the world, when the sun fell and the moon rose, they became just like any other loving family and Buffy realised meal times must be one of the only times in the day they get to see each other. She gazed at Marie with a soft smile on her face, seeing how her face lit up with Alexei picked up his tree tomato and chucked it at Anastasia, causing the girl to shriek in surprise.   
  
She felt privileged to be part of this, for she knew that soon it would be gone forever, never to be seen again by any of them.  
  
  
  
  



	3. Aunty Olga

PART FOUR: "Aunty Olga"  
  
The sound of birds chirping woke the Slayer the next morning.   
  
She smiled, not bothering to open her eyes just yet, blissfully content just to lay there, still in her dreams where Angel was laying, curled up beside her in a huge king size bed covered from head to toe in fluffy flower-covered quilts.  
  
Buffy stretched out, her feet not quite touching the end of the iron bed she was laying in, toasty warm from the cold wilderness that she knew, even though the birds were singing, lay outside the palace window. Brushing a strand of long blonde hair off her face, the Slayer took a sleepy breath and nuzzled back into her pillow, smiling when she caught the faint sent of Jasmine on the pillowcase.   
  
Everything here seemed to have its own definite smell, the girl mused dreamily.   
  
She lay there for a few more moments, not tired at all for the first time she could remember. The fact that she didn't have to get up in the middle of the night anymore for Patrol still amazed the Slayer, who normally didn't sleep a whole night anyway.  
  
Buffy chuckled, thinking that thought over with her morning brain as she listened with her sensitive hearing the innocent sound of Marie and Anastasia's breathing. The two girls were still fast asleep, the late night they had all had the night before had obviously taken its toll on the two young teenagers.   
  
After dinner, they had all moved into the family room and proceeded to spend the next few hours amusing themselves in ways Buffy didn't even think possible when referring to her own family.   
  
Anastasia had amazed them all, of course, with her sense of humour, setting them all off into fits of giggles with her mimes and impersonations, even if Buffy didn't have a clue who she was impersonating most of the time.  
  
Alexandra had read them a letter from the Dowager Empress; their Grandmother, Maria, who was in Denmark visiting some relatives, telling the girls that she should be back in a few weeks. Nicholas younger sister, Xenia, had gone with her, much to Alexandra's relief. Buffy could tell instantly that the three woman didn't get along very well.  
  
But then, after fully tiring themselves out, Nicholas and Alexandra had gently herded the children off to their bedrooms, the Tsar carrying a fast asleep Alexei in his arms, the weak little boy nuzzling his nose under his father's chin, much to everyone's amusement.  
  
Buffy remembered watching Marie and Anastasia resting by their beds, their head's bent in prayer as they whispered secrets to their lord. They had looked at her when they finished, obviously expecting her to do the same, but Buffy had quickly turned her head away, not being able to endure their innocently confused expressions a second longer. But they had let it go, probably hoping she would explain all to them when she felt comfortable enough, and whispered to her their blessing for a good nights sleep.  
  
And here she was, barely awake the next morning, noting to herself that she had survived one night in her new life.   
  
She turned her head slowly, opening her jade eyes finally to gaze out the tall windows beside her bed. Then suddenly, Buffy realised that this was the first time she had seen the Alexander Palace in the day light.   
  
That thought made the Slayer's eyes snap open the rest of the way as a broad smile swam onto her face. She silently jumped out of bed, trying not to wake Mashka and Anastasia and desperately looked around the bedroom for a pair of slippers. Spying a pair by Marie's bed she hurried over to them and slid them on her already cold feet, catching sight of herself in the full length wall mirror as she did so.  
  
She sighed. She had forgotten she had been redressed in the long night dress; the full sleeved, ankle length dress hardly suitable to be seen out in. Weighting her options, the Slayer just shrugged, not caring who saw her, and quickly tip-toed out of the room.  
  
Looking left and right down the deserted corridor, Buffy saw the coast was clear and padded down across the carpet. After many false twists and turns she found her self pushing open a pair of French doors that she had found in what looked like a waiting room.  
  
She caught her breath in total amazement.  
  
Buffy knew that in all that she was bound to see in her long life time, *nothing* would compare to the simply stunning beauty she witnessed as she hesitantly took a step onto the third story balcony, ignoring her feet as they tapped on the wooden boards. Taking a slow step forward, the Slayer reached out and grasped the ivory railing, turning her head left and right as she soaked in the wonder of the Tsarskoe Selo grounds.  
  
Tsarskoe Selo was the name for the huge parks, gardens, forests, islands, not to mention the two palaces in its residence; the Alexander and the Catherine, that lay 15 miles out of St Petersburg. The whole area was almost like another little city in itself, being surrounded in a huge golden wall from one end to the other. The only way one could enter Tsarskoe Selo was a single one lane road which was lined every hour of the day with hundreds of guards, all suspicious of anyone who dared use the path, ready to die protecting their Tsar and his little children who were protected behind those mighty walls.  
  
In such privacy, the Tsar and his family had successfully cut themselves of from the rest of the world. They were hardly ever seen about St Petersburg, save for the public appearances they were expected to attend. Alexandra, who was a shy and nervous woman in public, was disliked by the Russian nobility, society mistaking her shyness for pride. Between Alexandra and her mother in-law, Maria, the Russian court had successfully been divided in two. Maria's friends, which were plenty for the previous Empress was a happy, sociable woman, and Alexandra's.   
  
Nicholas was always worried about his darling wife. Concerned by the fact that her close circle of friends seemed to a lot smaller than everyone expected. Alix's closest friends were Lily Dehn and Anna Vyrubova, the three woman becoming inseparable when they came to visit. Anna, a young woman of lower blood who everyone called Anya, lived in a small palace the Empress had actually given her in one of the Tsarskoe Selo parks, so that they two woman were always together.   
  
But it was because of this, and other reasons, that Alix had kept her daughters out of St Petersburg society for as long as she possibly could. She didn't want their innocent minds warped by the ever-changing fashions that were doing the rounds. The bored younger generation having nothing better to do with their time so they were always dabbling in the forbidden, Alexandra being horrified even more every time she would hear of a promising young Princess getting pregnant out of marriage by some lower class man who had promised her the world.  
  
But to Buffy, she couldn't blame Alix for tucking her children up in this little world of theirs. To the rest of Russia, Tsarskoe Selo must seem like a hidden magickal city where the beautiful children of the Tsar were kept imprisoned.  
  
It was so like that in fact, that there wasn't a single person of lower blood in Russia who could actually tell the four daughters apart when they were seen out with their parents. They were so alike in features, and their public appearances so few, that Nicholas and Alexandra's daughters were often seen as mystical, hauntingly beautiful princesses of centuries past.  
  
"My, God." Buffy breathed, still clutching the railing. Leaning forward, she tipped herself over slightly and peered down at the snow cased ground below her. She could just make out the giant Greek pillars that dominated the grand entrance way to the palace.  
  
Surprising herself completely, the Slayer suddenly giggled out loud. Horrified, she quickly brought her hand up to cover her mouth, looking around the balcony desperately in case anyone had heard her. But, thank god, she was still alone, and therefore able to digest her amazement of her surroundings in peace.   
  
But she still couldn't wipe off the broad smile that was painted on her lips as she abruptly let go of the ivory railing, took a giant step back and began spinning herself around and around for no reason what so ever.  
  
It was just the complete and utter freedom that she felt, standing out here on one of the largest and most intimidating balconies she had ever set foot on, in the middle of nowhere. All around her was snow. Fluffy white, lace-like snow that touched everything in its icy path, sparing no budded flower mercy as it painted the world with angel's wings.  
  
Buffy blonde hair flew out behind her as she picked up the end of her night gown. She was grinning from ear to ear as she kept right on spinning, laughing out loud when the white walls of the Alexander Palace started to mix in together.  
  
She was puffed when she finally halted, her checks turning a faint pink....but she had never in her life felt so alive.  
  
So free.  
  
Here there were no burdens, no responsibilities pressing down on her so demandingly that sometimes she was at a loss to who she really was, what her real purpose was in life. There was no mother to be constantly reminding her of what to do, no Riley to try and make her into something she wasn't.  
  
She could just be herself. Just be Buffy Anne Summers from Sunnydale, California. Slayer extraordinaire.  
  
Nicholas, Alexandra and their family were inviting her into their home, into their hearts, without knowing the first thing about her. They had seen something, something buried deep inside her, that had instantly drawn them to her like a moth.   
  
And it was then Buffy knew that in her stay here in this time, she would change herself for no man. She would live this gift to the fullest. For if these people who had so lovingly brought her into their hearts were about to suffer at the merciless hands of Hades and the Fates, then she would do it for them. She would live...for them.  
  
The faint sound of footprints behind her made the Slayer halt suddenly. Readying herself to turned around and face one of the girls who had most probably woken up surprised to find her gone from her bed, Buffy took a slight breath, trying to get the flush off her cheeks. And with a wide smile on her face, the Slayer put her hands behind her back and slowly turned around.  
  
And there, standing gracefully against the white wall with her hands clasped simply in front of her, was a pretty woman in a shimmering blue gown. She was watching Buffy, her head cocked to the side thoughtfully, with a charming smile on her face.  
  
The Slayer fumbled, hastily smoothing down her nightdress, wondering in the back of her mind why the woman wasn't saying anything. She was just standing there, gazing at her.  
  
Lowering her eyes respectfully, Buffy curtsied quickly and tried to apologise. "I'm terribly sorry." she told the silent woman. "I didn't know anyone else was out here."  
  
Still the woman didn't speak and Buffy had to bit the inside of her lip in frustration, wanting nothing more to snap at the woman to quit staring. But when Buffy heard to unmistakable sound of her taking a step forward, the Slayer instantly lowered her head, not wanting the woman to spy the anger that was flashing in her eyes.   
  
The feeling of someone placing their finger under her chin made her flinch, but when she felt her head being lifted gently, Buffy found herself staring up into laughing blue eyes.  
  
"It's quiet alright, my dear." The woman told the blonde Slayer in her thickly accented voice, grinning kindly. Slowly taking her finger from under Buffy's chin, she instead captured it gently in her hand, turning the stunned Slayer's head from side to side, eyeing her face critically. When she seemed to have finished the tall woman gave a unlady-like snort and pattered Buffy's cheek affectionately.  
  
"I see my brother was correct. You are rather beautiful." she told the blonde casually, then frowned. "Although there is a subtle power in your eyes that I find quite disturbing."  
  
Buffy jerked her head out of her grasp, not really caring anymore if she was going to insult this obvious noble or not. Taking a wary step back, Buffy folded her arms across her chest uncomfortably.  
  
But the woman only laughed, clapping her hands together delightfully. "And yes, there is strength there as well!"  
  
"Who are you?" Buffy demanded, getting fed up with her games.  
  
The woman stopped clapping and again inclined her head to the side with a knowing smile. Quickly walking towards Buffy, she put an arm around the small Slayer's shoulders and steered her back to the railing, where they both once again looked out into the Russian winter.   
  
After a beat, she told Buffy in a quiet voice, "I am someone who knows your not all that you seem to be, that there are things that you are not telling my brother and his family." She turned her head and shot Buffy a sly glance and shrugged her shoulders. "I dont know what, but after all that my brother has said about you, I knew I had to see you for myself."  
  
The Slayer's eyebrows rose in confusion as she turned around, leaning her back against the railing and resting her elbows on it slightly behind her.   
  
"Your brother?" she asked, not understanding her words. Then as soon as the words were out of her mouth she clicked. Realisation drawned as she asked, "Your Nicholas' sister?"  
  
The woman nodded her head, smiled and reached out to tap Buffy head. "Your smart too. Good." Then to answer her question she told her, "My name is Olga Alexandrovna, and yes, I am Nicholas youngest sister."  
  
Buffy raised her eyebrows in silent surprise and looked...really looked...and the woman for the first time. She appeared to be in her late 20s or early 30s, had dark brown hair like her brother and a strong, confident aura about her. Buffy instantly knew Olga was no push over. But the thing that drew Buffy to her to most where her eyes. They were a startling shade of blue and looked powerful and strong as steal. But there was a obvious hint of sadness to them that made the Slayer realise that lovely Olga's life had not always been a happy one.  
  
But Buffy's train of thought was broken as Olga suddenly pushed off from the railing and grasp Buffy's hand in her's. Seeing the Slayer was confused, the pretty woman only laughed and kindly wrapped an arm around the blonde's small shoulders.  
  
As she steered Buffy through the door that led back into the palace, she informed the Slayer casually, "If you are going to be staying with this lot there are some things you have to remember. Firstly, on Saturday I *always* take the children into town." She shrugged. "I don't know why, but I always have, ever since they were little. And since it just happens to be Saturday..." she let the conversation trail off.  
  
By now they were nearing the little pair's bedroom and the obvious sound of Anastasia's laughter brought smiles to both the woman's faces. Just before she knocked on the door, Olga bent down and whispered in Buffy's ear,   
"And today's shopping trip centres entirely on you, my dear."  
  
Buffy looked startled, glancing up at her. Olga caught her look and grinned. "They did say yesterday that you would be getting some new clothes, no?"  
  
********  
The city of St Petersburg, two hours later....  
  
  
As the Troika raced down the Nevsky Prospect, Buffy lowered the hood of the thick ermine fur coat she was wearing so it almost covered her eyes, allowing it to cover her freezing ears as she watched the huge houses blast by as the four powerful black horses plunged ahead, knowing the terrain well. She had to admit she wasn't nearly as cold as she thought she would be, but the cover on the Troika slay was down so the seven passengers in the carriage were well covered. She knew without looking that trailing them was another carriage, decked with the three bodyguard-like people Nicholas and Alexandra had insisted they take with them on their shopping trip. As the Emperor had sadly informed them, the streets of Russia just weren't as safe as they used to be, especially now that the war was on.  
  
From her seat in the carriage, Buffy leaned over and rested her elbows on the open window, gazing in amazement at all the old fashioned buildings that they passed. There were some real beauties, she decided, eyeing some of the grand domes that sat on top of the many churches that filled St Petersburg's streets. Smiling, she waved ever so slightly at a group of peasants who hurried off the road as the Troika sped past them, looking up at the magnificent carriage that, while they were freezing out in the wilderness, kept its charges snug and warm inside its belly.  
The Slayer closed her eyes when she heard the unmistakable sound of the church bells start to ring, saying a silent prayer to what ever god existed that they get through this day without any troubles. But when a little hand snaked its way into her own and gave it a gentle squeeze, Buffy opened her hooded eyes slowly, finding herself staring down into Alexei's concerned little face.  
  
He didn't say anything, not wanting to draw the attention of his sisters or Aunt, and Buffy realised that somehow, this little boy understood what she must being going through.   
  
From what she had heard from Marie and her sisters, and from what she had actually seen with her own eyes, Alexei wasn't a healthy child and so he didn't get to get away from the Alexander Palace often. What was exactly wrong with him, well, Buffy didn't actually know, but she knew it must be something serious for all the extra attention he received from members of his family. He was always surrounded by people, not to mention his nervous mother, who seemed to think that the slightest little knock could cause him harm. But for all that, Buffy had completely fallen for the boy, she found him absolutely adorable, just as everyone else did.  
  
So now, when he looked up at her with his huge blue eyes from where he was sitting next to her, she reached over and kissed the top of his head and ruffled his hair, silently telling him that she was fine. The 11 year old Tsarevich gave a sigh and leaned his head against her ermine fur covered shoulder, their blonde hair mixing, their hands resting in Buffy lap...both of them still clasped tightly.   
  
Together, the Slayer and the heir stared out blankly into the streets of Russia's most proudest and grandest city...the fact that both of them were trapped in positions by birth that they hadn't chosen, and didn't necessarily want, not realised by either of them.  
  
*****  
  
"Wow."  
  
The word was out of her mouth before she could stop it.   
  
But seriously, what else was she meant to say when the carriage door was finally opened after the Troika came to a stop, and she had raised her head to catch her first glimpse at the store they would be shopping in for the next few hours.  
  
It was huge.  
  
"Forget the Sunnydale mall, i'm in heaven." Buffy muttered, not able to tear her eyes from the imposing building that was towering in front of them. It looked for all the world like some of the old fashioned hotels back in the older cities in America. There were a lot of framed widows, one above each over, all of them with the obvious Greek style that their creator must have had in mind when he designed them. It was obviously a department store, even if it was only four floors high, the grand entrance way busy with fashionable people as they came and went.  
  
As Tatiana took her arm, all of the Romanov children not sparing the wonderful building a second glance, Buffy couldn't help staring at some of the beautifully dressed woman that were milling around. She instantly felt a little uneasy, knowing she could never be as graceful or elegant as most of them.  
  
Still, she had to admit she looked wonderful. Olga Alexandrovna had helped the girls choose Buffy clothes today and they had decided to pull out the big guns, so to speck, considering after today she would have clothes of her own to wear. So that was how she now found herself dressed in one of Tatiana's most beautiful day outfits. The skirt was made of the softest dark green silk Buffy had ever seen, the skirts reaching her ankles, but only flaring slightly. The same as yesterday, she found herself wearing a tight fitting jacket, the long sleaves pooling out as her wrists with light cream coloured hems. It had shiny black buttons in the front, which were done up to her breasts, where it suddenly opened, allowing the top of her chest to be seen along with her neck, only being covered in a light covering of white lace.  
  
Gracefully, Buffy reached up with frozen fingers and slowly lowered the ermine fur lined hood that had been covering her head, letting her hair catch the sun's rays. It was piled loosely on top of her head in shining, soft curls, threaded through with ruby stones, with glittered brightly. In her ears were small greenstones while attached to them, allowing silver chains to fall from them, little rubies were filtered through.  
  
A little shy, she stuck closely to Marie, who smiled when she saw what Buffy was doing, as a uniformed porter offered her his hand. After a beat, in which she had seriously been considering getting down by herself, the Slayer smiled warmly at the distinguished young man and allowed him to take her hand, gently leading her out of the carriage and onto the busy city street.   
  
As she waited for the others, the Slayer again looked around her, eyes wide in awe at all the foreign sights. There was only a few cars that she could see, and even then she only recognised them as the ones from museums. High strung men and woman sat in them, the men wrapped in furs while their lady counterparts had hoods similar to the ones she was wearing now wrapped around their heads so keep their hair in place. All the rest of transport on the cobbled roads were Troikas.  
  
"Buffy?" a voice whispered to her. It was Marie, and when the Slayer turned around, she saw that Olga Nicholaievna was just being helped down from the carriage, the last person to exit the Troika. Marie had her hand rested lightly on the Slayer's arm, just enough to get her attention and was looking up at her in concern.   
"Are you alright?" Buffy realised she must have seen the totally bewildered expression on her face. Sighing, the Slayer nodded her head slightly, allowing Mashka to link her fur covered arm through hers. "Yeah." she answered, looking up at the building as the group walked under the entrance way. "It's just a bit overwhelming, thats all." she told her truthfully.  
  
Marie nodded, as if she had been expecting this. Using the arm that wasn't linked through the slightly older Slayer's, she reached over and patted her hand comfortingly as the bodyguards steered the woman - and Alexei, who was holding onto his Aunt's hand tightly - through the doors and into the warmth of the store.  
  
Bending down she that her and Marie were ear to ear, Buffy whispered hesitantly, "Where are we?"  
  
Marie giggled. "This is the firm of L. Betran." She shrugged, explaining how things were done for the Slayer to help her understand. "Mama gets some of our clothes from here, the bill is send immediately to Madame Geringer for approval at the palace and the payments are made soon after that."  
  
Raising her eyebrows, Buffy hid a smile, seeing the similarities to credit cards instantly. "Do you have a budget?" she asked the Duchess jokingly, and was shocked when she nodded, seemingly not seeing the sarcasm.  
  
"Yes. Mines not as large as Tatiana's or Olga's, but we still dont use nearly as much as we can. My budgets 18,397 rubles." She laughed and told Buffy, "Last year I only used 6,307. We don't have to spend all of it, for most of the time we just swap clothes around between us."  
  
Buffy grimaced. "Now thats the strange thing. I don't think ive ever shared a piece of clothing with my sister willingly my entire life."  
  
Marie looked up at her in surprise. "You have a sister?"   
  
The Slayer nodded. "Yeah. Her names Dawn, and she can be a real pain in the ass sometimes."  
  
The Duchess laughed, knowing what she was talking about. "How old is she?"  
  
Debating just how much to tell her, Buffy realised no harm could come from answering Marie's innocent question, for as she sadly realised, Glory couldn't do much harm to Dawn with the information she was about to give more than 80 years before Dawn was born.  
  
"She's about the same age as Anastasia, actually." That fact had surprised her when she discovered the girl's ages and she knew one of the reasons she was warming to Ana so fast *was* the fact she reminded her so much of Dawn. Both were energetic and playful...and both could tease ruthlessly when they wanted to.  
  
"Come girls!" They both heard Aunt Olga say in a cheerful voice as the woman beckoned them over to her. Marie and Buffy slowly made their way over to wear Tatiana, Alexei and both Olga's were waiting for them, only to find themselves greeted by five men dressed in dark navy suits when they got there. They were a mixture of the shop's porters, clerks and managers and they all greeted Marie by name.  
  
Smiling sweetly at Marie, a youngish looking handsome man with dark hair and glasses bowed and kissed her hand. "Grand Duchess Marie." he greeted. Buffy realising as she watched, that the Romanov family were on very good terms with this man.  
  
"Mr Betran, how good to see you again." Marie said politely. The man grinned kindly at her, but when his eyes flickered over her shoulder and spied Buffy, he frowned, his smile faulting on his face. He straightened slowly, never taking his curious eyes off the Slayer's face.  
  
"I see we have an extra today, Olga." He told the Aunt, seemingly delighted. Moving aside so that Buffy and the man were facing, Marie introduced her new friend.  
  
"Mr Betran, I'd like you to meet Miss Elizabeth Summers. She will be staying with us for a while."  
  
The dark haired man reached up to straighten his glasses before bending down to kiss Buffy's out stretched hand. "A pleasure, Miss Summers." He straightened back up again and inquired,  
  
"And how are you finding you stay in St Petersburg?"  
  
Buffy smiled, charmed by the man. "Very enlightening to say the least." She grinned and nodded her head. "You have a very beautiful city."  
  
Me Betran caught her accent immediately. His eyebrows shot up in surprise as he began to clap his hands together in delight. "An American!" he cried, a wide grin breaking out on his face.   
  
Taking the Slayer by the arm, he began to lead the small party through the shop, Buffy sending Marie a helpless look over her shoulder when Mr Betran began to steer her away. Marie only shrugged, although she seemed not able to get the grin off her face at her friend's current situation.  
  
"May I ask where about in America you live?" he asked ever so politely, Buffy watching as he nodded now and then to someone in his shop.  
  
Thinking quickly, the girl knew she couldn't say Sunnydale, for he would be bound to ask the obvious question of why a girl who lived in such a low town in society was staying with the Romanovs. So, finding the obvious, the Slayer used the next best answer.  
  
"Los Angeles, Sir." she told him and he nodded again.   
  
"I'm sorry to say i've never been there." Then he shocked Buffy by shrugging sheepishly. "Will you settle for San Francisco?" As he waited for her answer, he gently placed his hand on Buffy's arm, steering her in another direction.  
  
Buffy laughed, humoured by his reply. "Even though the cities are quite different, yes, San Francisco will do perfectly."  
Mr Betran chuckled, again pushing up his glasses. "You have a delightful sense of humour, my dear." he bluntly informed the Slayer, teasingly. Indeed, Betran was quite surprised at just how open he found himself around this girl, especially since he didn't even know her.  
Their conversation was halted as Mr Betran led Buffy and the others through a pair of large oak doors at the back of the shop, both who were maned at either side by uniformed porters, and Buffy found herself in a very small, very exclusive salon-like room. It was empty of any life save for their own, the soothing scent of jasmine making the Slayer smile as soon as she caught smell of the fragrance.  
  
The room was littered with sofas and other forms of seating, all comfortable ways for the guests to feel relaxed. The royal blue walls were dripping framed painting, many of which Buffy instantly recognised from Art class.  
  
She allowed Mr Betran to take her to a sofa and help her down, Buffy grudgingly admitting that she *did* need the help, sitting your body down in a corset was no easy accomplishment. The young Olga sat down next to her and a seat was brought for Alexei.   
  
The Slayer's awed gaze flew to the entrance way as the doors were slowly pushed open and three little old ladies entered, all who bowed politely at the royalty in their presence. One of Buffy's eyebrows rose charmingly as she looked the three smartly dressed woman up and down, a smirk touching at the side of her mouth. But her attention was drawn to Mr Betran who was standing in the centre of the room, leaning slightly on the back of a Queen Anne chair. Setting his gaze on the Aunt, he asked,  
  
"So, Olga. What can we do for you today?" He playfully rubbed his hands together.  
  
Olga instantly rose and walked over to the silent Buffy, who was still looking around the room in amazement. Coming to a stop before the beautiful blonde slayer, she reached down and took Buffy's hand, pulling her into a standing position. Mr Betran followed her walk across the floor and his eyebrows shot up in surprise when he saw who Olga was standing next to. Confusion married his face, but he quickly blanked the expression off his features.  
  
Leading Buffy by the hand till they were standing before the man, Olga patted the Slayer's shoulders reassuringly.  
  
"We are shopping almost entirely for Elizabeth, today, Mr Betran." Olga told the man bluntly. Betran was silent for a moment, his eyes never leaving the Slayer's face, as he reached up and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Finally, he sighed and lowered his hand. Taking a step forward, he waved for Olga to release the girl, which she immediately did, and stood there for a few moments, looking the Slayer up and down.  
  
"Let me guess." he finally spoke, dryly. "She brought all American clothes, not suitable for Russia, yes?"  
  
The children were all silent, Buffy included, all of them gazing up at their aunt, waiting to see what Olga would say. But she only laughed, nodding her head. "You know what western people are like, Betran. They think their clothes are suitable for all weather!"  
  
Buffy snorted, opening her mouth to reply, but instantly clamped it shut when she felt Olga squeeze her arm warningly.  
  
The charming Mr Betran again turned to study Buffy, looking at her figure, seemingly doing sums in his head of what colours would suit her, etc. Then suddenly, he grinned brightly and pushed himself away from the chair.  
  
"Well then." he spoke briskly, clicking his fingers at the three silent old ladies who were standing at the back of the room, out of the way. They quickly jumped forward at his command. He turned to give the Romanov children a broad smile before saying eagerly,  
  
"Lets get to work! Who would like to help me?"  
  
*****  
An hour later, Buffy felt just about ready to collapse. She had been dressed and undressed seemingly thousands of times, the old woman spending 15 minutes at least on each outfit. They had to be refitted, taken in and adjusted, all under Olga's watchful eye, the woman never leaving Buffy's side the whole time, for which the Slayer was entirely grateful.  
  
Mr Betran hadn't always been present, only entering the room when Buffy was suitably dressed, much to the Slayer's amusement. As for some of the dresses she was made to wear,   
Buffy couldn't hardly bear to look at herself in the mirror that she was led to. She didn't see herself, all she saw was just layers and layers of silk and satin of all the colours of the rainbow, gold thread and masses of pearls, rubies and other precious gems.   
  
She had been completely made over. Her hair was trimmed and styled so that it was layed at the top of her head, a ribbon wrapped around it to keep it in place. Overall, when she stared at her reflection in the mirror once again, seeing how her eyes were bright and alert, her checks flushed yet pale, her lips rosy and full, Buffy had to admit she didn't recognise herself. She looked completely different.  
  
Mr Betran, only the other hand, thought she looked beautiful. Truth be told, he had never seen such a exquisite creature in his entire life. He now stood at the front of the room, in front of the oak doors, his presence not known by the woman in the room, all who were fussing around the blonde American. He saw how she looked at herself in the glass, as if she was amazed at her own reflection, that it was not really her at all.  
  
He frowned when she reached out slowly and touched the glass, memorised by what it portrayed. It was if she hadn't ever seen herself in a mirror before, he mused. Or, more likely, that she had never seen herself like *that* before. But this revaluation only added to the aura of mystery that surrounded the girl. What was she doing with the Romanovs? How had she come to know them? He had been dressing the children for coming up 10 years and he had never once heard about this beautiful American that was their sudden friend. Where had she come from?  
  
But as he watched, smiling slightly as he saw Marie and Anastasia help the woman pin up Buffy's dress, Tatiana sitting off to the side with a totally bored Alexei, trying to entertain her little brother, Mr Betran decided that it didn't really matter.   
  
She was enchanting.   
  
Seemingly sensing someone was watching her, Buffy slowly turned her head to the side, catching his gaze. She turned back quickly, her face flinching, not liking the way he was looking at her. But telling herself he was only being nice, she gave him a smile through the mirror, her eyes dancing as she looked at him through the glass.  
  
Yes, Mr Betran decided, rubbing his chin again thoughtfully.  
  
Simply enchanting.  
  
*****  
  
Three hours later, Buffy lay tucked up in the Troika once again, Alexei's head pillowed in her lap, the little boy sound asleep. She looked down at his flushed face and reached out slowly, gently stroking his warm check with the back of her bent finger. He didn't even flinch. Becoming bolder, she tapped his nose and was rewarded with Alexei scrunching his face up slightly before relaxing again.  
  
On the other side of the carriage there was a familiar giggle. Looking up sharply she saw Anastasia and Tatiana were the only ones awake, both of them watching her antics with wide eyed amusement. Grinning at them, she bent down and blew on Alexei's face lightly and his eyes slowly opened groggily.  
  
"Sorry, Baby." she whispered, instantly feeling bad for waking the Tsarevich. She started to comb her fingers through his silky blonde hair. "Go back to sleep."   
  
He groaned, shifting on her lap. "Are we going home, Buffy?" he whispered, his voice husky from sleep. Buffy didn't answer right away, turning her head to look out the window, watching as the trees zipped by as the lowering sun dropped from the sky. She could already see the stars.   
  
And then, suddenly, the line of trees that flanked the deserted road seemed to path respectfully and Buffy could see on the territory of the Tsarskoe Selo ensemble...in the northern part of the Alexander Park, against a picturesque landscape...stood the Romanov's home, a wonderful little palace with more than two centuries of romantic history.  
  
The Alexander palace stood, its pillars proud and strong, the creamy walls blanketed by the moonlight. Already Buffy was frighteningly familiar with the place. She had only been their 24 hours and already she knew her way around most of the many hallways, the children's floor well mapped in her mind.  
  
Stroking Alexei's hair gently as the little boy again started to drift off to sleep, the blonde Slayer stared blankly at the palace as the carriage turned sharply, racing through the gates of Tsarskoe Selo towards home. She knew she would just have to except the fact that, yes, this place would be her home for the next few weeks, months, or however long it took Buffy to complete her quest.  
  
"Yes, Alexei." She whispered, bending down to cover his face more warmly with the fur then leaning back against the seat, still content to stare out the window.  
  
"We're going home."  
  
And then she drifted off to sleep...and her dreams were of Willow, Xander and home...and of course, Angel.  
  
*****  
  
  
  
  



	4. The Winter Ball

PART FIVE: "The Winter Ball" Part: A  
  
January 16, 1915  
  
The frozen leaves and twigs shattered beneath her pounding feet as the girl continued on her way through the outskirts of the forest. The sound of her breathing was all that could be heard, save for the early morning cries of the birds as they greeted the new day. In fact, the birds were strangely subdued this morning, as if they too, realised something was a tad off. Most were tracking with their beady eyes the bright figure that was at this very moment pushing her body to its limit as she tried to run away from her problems...literally.  
  
It was not known if they too, thought it odd that the lone girl was running though the forest at this time in the morning. With their powerful eyesight and means of transport these birds must have seen a lot. But by their silence, it was concluded that they had never seen anything quite like this.  
  
But these things were far from the Slayer's thoughts as she tried in vain to steady her breathing into a more sensible pattern. Looking around at her surroundings, Buffy wondered idly if she dared venture deeper into the forest. It was true, she was in unfamiliar territory and would probably end up getting lost, but at this moment, it sounded like an ideal situation for the Slayer.  
  
She shook her blonde head slightly, telling herself to stop being so pitiful. What would Marie and the others say if she failed to return home in time for breakfast? They would be worried sick, she knew, especially since they had no idea were she was.  
  
Her mind made up, Buffy turned just in time and started down what looked like a well-used path, looking up at the towering trees that blanketed the brightening sky from her eager gaze. The forest around her was dense, the trees pushing towards her in a comforting way. The Slayer welcomed the feeling as she sped up her pace, zooming through freezing wilderness.  
  
She knew that if anyone were to come across her now they would be horrified. In fact they would probably be amazed that she had not frozen to death. Buffy had known the instant she looked out her bedroom window early that morning that there had been a fresh falling of snow the night before. But that still hadn't stopped the Slayer from carrying out her crazy idea. She had decided to start running in the mornings, and by god, she would. No one would stop her.  
  
That thought brought a ghost of a smile to the pretty girl's lips. She could just imagine one of her new found family trying to sway her mind.  
  
When the Slayer found herself leaving the forest suddenly by coming out in a clearing she finally stopped, her hands grasping her knees as she sucked in as much air as she could. Her head was slightly dizzy as she finally raised her eyes, scanning her surroundings as she tried to find her way back to the Alexander Palace.  
  
Everything she could see was white.  
  
Snow was in the treetops, making them look like strange ice creams, and on the grassy plains that made up the Alexander Park of Tsarskoe Selo. Even the artificial lake that Buffy could just make out through the trees was frozen, white dust sprinkled on the top.  
  
In all the things she had seen during her life in America, most of which was greatly modern compared to this, she knew that she had never seen anything quite like Tsarskoe Selo. It was like a magickal and hauntingly magnificent story from a fairytale, like another little world in itself, never to be seen anywhere else in the world. Even with the snow that pressed everything in closer to the earth, Buffy could see in her mind just what the grounds would look like come spring. She could imagine in those short months as the sun moves so much slower across the sky how every flower known to man would suddenly burst forth in a ray of colour that no one could ever hope to imagine if they hadn't experienced life in Russia. This little world would seem to explode suddenly with life. There were so few places on Earth, which Buffy knew, that treasured life like Tsarskoe Selo.  
  
And as she slowly started to walk down the worn path, her feet crunching on the gravel that would lead her back to the front entrance of the Alexander Palace, Buffy had no idea that it would be this frozen yet elegant land, that was the lifeblood of the Imperial Court, that would unknowing help her distract herself from the pressures of her everyday life, just as it had been serving the Romanov family for over 300 years with the exact same task, helping their Majesties to relax as much as they could from the realities of the Throne.  
  
The striking blonde was silent as she made her way through the trees, shielding her eyes when a burst of early morning sunshine broke through the large shrubs that were parallel to the path, allowing the impressive, creamy pillars of the palace to be viewed. Joining up with the main driveway, Buffy walked around a huge fountain that was out the front of the doors, watching as the grey figures in the centre spurted water out through their mouths.  
  
Even at this time in the morning there were people out around the palace, servants and such. She ignored them for the best part, keeping her eyes down as she quickened her pace to jog up the many main steps, mentally scolding herself for staying so long out. She had originally intended to be back inside (and back in bed she admit) by the time anyone in the household had risen. She knew people where staring at her, obviously wondering a great number of questions. What in the world she was doing out so early was probably the foremost on everyone's minds, but also, what she was doing in the clothes she was wearing. (She had managed to snag a pair of pants as she walked past one of the many laundry rooms).  
  
Just when she could feel her tolerance snap bad enough to almost make her turn around and snarl at someone to mind their own business, the huge wooden doors at the centre of the porch were suddenly pushed open wide, allowing the large bulk of a man to be seen on the threshold. As he scanned the courtyard, Folkine caught sight of her walking up the steps in front of him and his large, kind brown eyes flew open in surprise.  
  
The Romanov's servant released the doors suddenly as he hurried to meet the Slayer just as she reached the last few steps. He instantly took her by the arm, guiding her up the remainder of the way, causing Buffy to bite the inside of her mouth in annoyance. But instead she raised her eyes and greeted the man with a hesitant smile, a tad bit confused as to why he was greeting her in such an informal manner.  
  
"Miss!" the round old man cried in his thick, accented voice. But Buffy was more startled to discover that he spoke in halted English. Quite bad English, granted, but English all the same. His dark eyes smiling with great pleasure as he led her though the large doors, not bothering to turn and shut them - Buffy only guessing that there were doormen on duty - and into the warmness of the palace.  
  
"V'e not sure what `ad happen to you, Miss." Folkine told her slowly, trying not to get muddled over the strange words. The Slayer was touched that he would even bother and try to communicate with her at all; even though she didn't know how he was aware what language she spoke.  
  
Not aware in the slightest of her confusion, the dark haired bear of a man continued to yap away happily as he steered her through a maze of deserted hallways, most of them still dark as the sunlight had not reached them yet. "Karina said you up v'alking...but Folkine want see for self." He added shyly, looking down at her from his great height.  
  
That was at the precise moment when they were walking past a window looking out into the forest. There was a little side table below it with a pretty bunch of flowers sitting snugly in a stained glass vase. As he finished the Slayer stopped abruptly, causing Folkine to mimic her actions in surprise. Tilting her head slightly, she was smiling uncertainly as she spoke to him.  
  
"I'm terribly sorry, sir." She began, not wanting to insult the lovely old man. "But have we met?"  
  
Folkine's eyebrows shot up and he stared at her in bewilderment. Then, just as Buffy had opened her mouth to hastily apologise, the man tilted back his head and roared with laughter, causing the Slayer to startle and look around them nervously. She wasn't even sure if laughing was allowed in this part of the house.  
  
He laid a hand of her arm gently, making her eyes fly back to meet his quickly. "Folkine help you, Miss." He told Buffy gently, still smiling. Seeing she was still slightly confused he elaborated. "With Marie Nicholaievna...in snow."  
  
"Oh!" Buffy cried, grasping what he was getting to at instantly. "That was you?" she asked, stunned, one hand brought up to cover her mouth. "I thought there was someone else, but then when I woke up there was only Alix and the girls, but...Oh, thank you SO much!"  
  
Taking the round old man completely by surprise, she reached up on tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his thick, shaggy neck and gave him a quick kiss of gratitude on his check, smelling a mixture of soap and whiskey on his person.  
  
Leaning back, she saw his open jaw and stunned face and giggled, not able to stop herself.  
  
"You saved my life, sir." She told him sincerely. "I'll never forget it."  
  
Folkine blushed with pleasure, not quick enough to hide the fact as he turning his head away. "V'ell, couldn't let freeze, no?" he told her gruffly, but he was smiling behind his thick black moustache as they continued walking. She glanced up at his face slightly as they came to the grand staircase, as the strangest feeling came over her, like she suddenly knew that she had won this old man's silent approval; and made a valiant and fiercely loyal friend for life.  
  
And he hadn't even seemed to notice her clothes.  
  
She had just opened her mouth to thank Folkine for helping her find her way when she saw his body go instantly stiff to attention, his back straight. Frowning at his strange behaviour she turned and her eyes flew up the stairs to see what had caused the change in his demeanour, only to raise her eyebrows when she saw a lean, fresh figure come casually walking down the stairs in front of them, his nose buried in a newspaper.  
  
He didn't even notice them stand there until he was on the last step where he suddenly stiffened, one foot in mid flight. Buffy watched, fascinated as more and more of the man's high, light brown forehead came into view...then finally his soft, brilliant blue eyes, which locked with hers.  
  
Nicholas' hands slackened and the paper slipped onto the floor.  
  
"Buffy!" he started, still staring at her in bewildered surprise. "What on earth are you doing out here? ..." She noticed the corners of his mouth quirk upwards as he spoke next. "And what in the *world* are you wearing?"  
  
The Slayer blushed and heard Folkine gasp as he finally looked down at her and saw the pants and white blouse she was wearing. The old man sputtered, caught between reaching down and picking up his master's paper and expressing his innocence at what she had on. Nicholas solved the problem for him by casually bending his knees gracefully and picking up his own paper with one hand, not taking his smiling eyes off the Slayer.  
  
"Well?" he said, trying to sound firm, succeeding as far as to sound exactly like Giles did when he was trying to be cross with her.  
  
She raised her eyes finally and in all honesty, told the truth. "I went for a run."  
  
He coughed. "Excuse me?" the gentle Tsar asked, as if it was the strangest thing he had ever heard. "You went for a what? In this weather?" He caught himself just as he said that and frowned, shaking his head. "Buffy, my darling girl, you shouldn't be running in the first place."  
  
She tilted her chin stubbornly, knowing that if she was going to win this one she was going to have to fight him on it, even if he was one of the most powerful men in the world. "Why not? I didn't go far, Nicholas, and I wasn't in the least bit cold."  
  
Nicholas stared at her in such as stunned manner that she guessed that not many people, let alone females young enough to be one of his daughters, argued with him. But there was something that she spied in his eyes that gave her hope before it was quickly pushed side.... admiration.  
  
"But, child, it's just not right." Nicholas had the strangest feeling that that defence wouldn't hold up well in her opinion. And he was right, for she just knitted her eyebrows together in annoyance and sighed. The Tsar couldn't believe they were even having this conversation. Really, what was he meant to say to something like that? He looked down at her flushed face, into her determined green eyes and decided that it couldn't really do anyone any harm. The grounds at Tsarskoe Selo were amazingly safe, no one would dare commit any type of crime there; so close to the Tsar's home.  
  
But, Nicholas decided, there really was something unique about her eyes. "Subtle power" his younger sister had called it yesterday when she had told him of their meeting on the balcony. And he was inclined to believe her. Never had he seen such strong will in someone so young, male or female.  
  
Shaking those disturbing thoughts from his mind, the Tsar put a kind smile of his face and reached down to pat the Slayer warmly on the top of her head. "I suppose there is no harm...." He paused, but seeing the instantly smug look on the blonde girl's face Nicholas felt a surge of wickedness as he proceeded to spoil her fun.  
  
"...As long as you take either Derevenko or Nagorny with you." He looked very concerned as he informed her of the conditions. "If you insist on carrying out with this absurd idea of yours, I would hate to be back here in the palace, worrying over your fate."  
  
The Tsar gave her a gentle smile. "I would like to be reassured that you were being protected."  
  
Buffy thought it over. Having someone to run with could be fun, hell, it had to beat going on her own. And it would be a perfect opportunity to improve her Russian. "Sure." She told him casually. "Only, who are those people you were talking about? I don't think I've actually met them."  
  
Nicholas grinned and started tapping the paper on his arm playfully. "Derevenko and Nagorny are Alexei's minders. We call them the "Sailor Nannies". He paused, cocking his head to the side thoughtfully. "Only don't let them hear you say that. Considering the fact that they are navy officers built like polar bears, I don't think they will think kindly at being thought of as babysitters."  
  
Buffy laughed and nodded her head. "I'll try and remember that."  
  
Nicholas had a wide smile on his face as he turned slightly and pointed up the stairs. "And with that, my dear, I think you should head up stairs and get dressed for breakfast. The girls are waiting for you."  
  
Ruffling the top of her head as he went, Nicholas was whistling under his breath as he headed into the dining room, Folkine on his heals. When she was alone in the room, the Slayer slowly brought her hand up and softly touched the top of her head where Nicholas had in confused wonder.  
  
It just didn't make sense, she thought to herself. How can the man who would be responsible for millions of his countrymen's lives be so kind...so casual...so Normal? Buffy didn't know how he did it, have that many lives in his hands and still be remotely sane. Buffy knew if she had been in the same position she would have buckled under the pressure long ago. Russia was such a big a country to be ruled just by one man. Buffy wondered idly if there were any of the peasants living out in the country that even knew what Nicholas looked like.  
  
With that thought in mind, Buffy silently headed up the huge stairs to the waiting Duchesses.  
  
* * *  
  
An hour later...  
  
"Oh, the blue, Buffy! You must! Doesn't it look adorable on her, Tatia?"  
  
With Olga Nicholaievna excited voice in her ears, the Slayer slowly walked over to the full-length mirror and examined herself critically, at the same time unconsciously smoothing her hands over the flowing material of the light blue skirt she was wearing. Her head inclined to the side thoughtfully, she peered at her reflection, her brows married in a frown. Not turning from the mirror, she called over her shoulder at the two girls behind her, both who were being helped get ready for the day.  
  
"Do you really think so? Are you sure it sits right over my hips?"  
  
Tatiana's laugh sounded like bells around the room as she gracefully got up from the vanity seat where her maid had just finished putting her reddish brown hair up around her head and came over to the perplexed Slayer. Standing beside the slightly shorter girl, the grey-eyed Grand Duchess looked down at Buffy's skirt, making her own conclusion.  
  
Feeling strangely nervous under her gaze, Buffy herself turned back to the mirror and stared in. The full-length skirt she wore was accompanied by white lace blouse with the typical long sleeves. Bringing an arm up to her eye level she peered at the delicate artwork she was wearing. For that's what it was, a piece of art. There were little hand sown violet flowers flowing up her arms and onto her chest, each paired with another set of pale yellow ones.  
  
The wrists were flared slightly at the ends, and Buffy caught the reflection of the delicate diamond ring she wore on her finger. She had found it sitting wrapped in a tiny pink box on her pillow when she had entered her room this morning after her run. As she had opened it slowly, a small piece of rose scented paper had fallen out and fluttered to the floor. On bending to retrieve it, the blonde had read the loopy scrawls in surprise.  
  
"Dearest Buffy,  
  
Whenever we go and stay places with family we always receive gifts.  
  
Consider this a welcome present of the warmest kind.  
  
We each have one and decided that being the honorary sister that you are, you should have one too!  
  
Lots of love,  
  
OTMA."  
  
Re-reading the note over in her head, Buffy couldn't help but smile. She had recognised Mashka's handwriting instantly and was deeply touched that they would go to the trouble. From what she had figured out herself over the past few days, the girl's only got a certain amount of pocket money for themselves a month, which strangely enough, was less than the Slayer's used to get. So she knew that if they wanted to buy something for someone, a gift and so forth, it would mean they would have to sacrifice something they wanted for themselves.  
  
Back in the dressing room, Buffy admired the ring. The base looked like a plan gold band at first, before you suddenly realise that all the way round there was tiny diamonds imbedded, meeting up with the bigger stone on the top of her finger. Over all, it was an amazing piece of jewellery.  
  
"I think all you need is that sash you bought on Saturday, Buffy." The sound of Tatiana's voice broke her train of thought and the blonde Slayer raised her head to meet the girl's starry-eyed gaze.  
  
"The cream one?" she asked, catching on to what she was talking about. Looking at herself again, she mentally tied the sash around her waist to see what it would look like. Smiling, she nodded her head.  
  
"I think your right." Buffy smiled up at the 18 year old. "You are so good at this, Tatiana. You could do wonder's with my wardrobe back home." She looked down at the floor and smiled ironically. "Willow would have a fit, but I was thinking about having a spring clean anyway."  
  
The two Romanov's glanced at each other, Olga slowly making her way over, dismissing her maid as she went.  
  
"I'll get the sash, Buffy." The eldest daughter said softly. She walked over to Buffy's wardrobe, which was a new addition to her and the younger girls bedroom, (the freestanding wooden wardrobe was sitting in the corner on the room, next to Anastasia's dressing table) and opened the large doors. Shifting though the masses of colour, all recently purchased on their shopping trip a few days ago, she pulled out the cream sash and closed the doors silently.  
  
Tatiana looked down into Buffy's face, a worried frown edged on her elegant features. "Is she a friend?" she asked, not wanting to intrude, but feeling that their new friend needed to talk about it. When Buffy's eyebrows smoothed out and she started to smile warmly, a far away look in her eyes, Tatiana mentally gave herself a pat on the back.  
  
"Yeah." Buffy admitted. She paused, and then whispered, "My best friend."  
  
Olga walked over to them, tied the sash around Buffy's waist and put a comforting hand on the Slayer's shoulder. "I know that you said that you can not go home, and for whatever reason that may be, we respect you none the less, but it is from my personal experience not to give up any hope of seeing her again."  
  
She turned Buffy's chin up with her finger and forced her to gaze into her pretty, honest face. It almost broke Buffy's heart to see the gentle, confident smile that lit up her face. "When you wish for something so badly, the fates would never let it not come true."  
  
Taking a deep breath, Buffy nodded, quickly wiping the tears out of her eyes. It was just so hard, the thought of never seeing her friends again. And never to see Angel...to be able to say the things she had kept tucked inside her for far to long to his face...it was almost too much to bear. She missed her friends greatly, of course, but it was for Angel that her heart really cried out in anguish. It was almost as if her body recognised the feeling of being ripped from its mate and it screamed in longing, and almost in pain.  
  
To think that he was back there in LA with Cordelia and Wesley and their other friends gave her the tiniest glimmer of reassurance. They would take care of Angel for her, that she knew. From what she had seen of the new Cordelia in the times she had visited LA to see them she knew that her former school friend was very protective of Angel, and wouldn't let anything hurt him unnecessarily.  
  
He would grieve her in his own way, Buffy knew. She pitied the person from the Sunnydale gang who drew the short straw and had to call him...or would they do it that way at all? Come to think of it, she was certain that Willow would volunteer. She had always had a way of soothing people in distress, and Angel had never been an exception to the rule. She would break the news to him gently.  
  
She wondered if they would find out what had truly happened to her at all, or just think her dead. She shook her head at the notion instantly. Of course they would research, they would until sleep finally came crashing through the doors to the Magic Shop and clamed them. Her friends had all been there when she disappeared, they had all seen her vanish, and Buffy severely hoped they had learned enough from her over the years not to take it lightly.  
  
Some part of her wished that Whistler would just go to them and set their minds at ease.  
  
"Buffy?"  
  
The Slayer jerked her head up and saw both Olga and her sister looked at her in concern. "Are you alright?" Tatiana asked.  
  
Buffy laughed dryly. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little spacey." She turned from the mirror abruptly, the subtle folds in her skirt swishing around her slender legs as she moved across the room.  
  
They girls frowned at her strange speech, but accepted it none the less. Still watching her warily, Olga went over to Buffy's wardrobe and pulled out a matching day jacket for her blue skirt. Laying it on Buffy's bed, the girl explained, "If we go out anywhere, you will need this."  
  
Buffy just nodded and gave her a grateful smile, no longer in the mood for clothes. But when the bedroom door was flung open and three figures walked in, Buffy once again found herself smiling. Marie and Anastasia she had expected, the two girls had been sitting with their mother in her famous Mauve Boudoir, but she was delighted to see Alexei walking between his older sisters.  
  
"Good morning, Alexei." She greeted him warmly, and he gave her a kiss on the check when he reached her. Olga and Tatiana also greeted their brother, and then started to help the two younger girls pin up their hair. While they waited, Buffy and the 11-year-old heir sat on her bed and watched; laughing when Marie shrieked as Tatiana accidentally stabbed her in the head with a pin.  
  
Looking around his sister's room, Alexei's eyes paused when he noticed a mass of green under Buffy's bed. Frowning, the boy rose from his spot and walked over to the bed, kneeling as he fished under the bed. Buffy saw his attention and grinned.  
  
"Alexei, what are you doing?" she asked, her question catching the attention of the girls. They too, stopped what they were doing and watched curiously as their younger brother stood, eyeing the thing in his arms warily.  
  
It was a backpack.  
  
"Oh!" Buffy cried, recognising it instantly. She got up and raced over, delight filling her eyes. "Where did that come from?" she asked in amazement as the blonde boy quickly handed over the bag, still eying it with some concern. But it was Marie who answered, the girl coming over to them.  
  
"You had it on you when Folkine and I found you." She explained. Then she shrugged. "We didn't know what to do with it and Mama thought you might like to keep it." Buffy looked at her with her eyebrows raised, a charming grin still on her face.  
  
"We didn't open it." Marie added quickly, alarm in her magnificently large blue eyes. But the Slayer just laughed, heading over to the bed again and sitting down, the others all crowding around her, curiosity winning over manners. Alexei once again took a seat next to her, the boy obviously feeling a little proud of the fact that he had been the one to make Buffy so happy. Anastasia sat on her other side, the teenager wanting to see just as the others what was inside.  
  
Knowing they were all watching, Buffy pulled the cords to open the bag and put a hand inside, fishing out the first thing her hand came in contact with. It was her CD player. Placing the small grey machine on her lap, the Slayer laughed happily. She had completely forgotten about her backpack. She knew she had been wearing it as she disappeared, but had later come to the conclusion that she had lost it in the snow when coming out the other side, so to speak. Running her hands around the side, she pushed the tiny white button on the side and grinned when Anastasia gasped as the lid popped open.  
  
"What is it, Buffy?" Olga asked, staring down at the small, circular device. Her sisters and brother where doing exactly the same. Buffy didn't answer them at first, only placed the CD player on Alexei's lap and once again dug around her backpack. When she drew her hands out they were filled with about four square, flat boxes, each with coloured pictures on the front.  
  
"It's a CD player." She explained to the children. They looked at her blankly and Buffy sighed, trying again. "It play's music."  
  
Understanding filled their eyes and the Slayer breathed a sigh of relief. She didn't know how far they were, technology wise, but was grateful that they had at least invented a way to play music. Anastasia looked stunned as she reached down and picked up the CD Player from Alexei, the top still open.  
  
"Like a Phonograph?" she asked, turning it over to see the bottom. Feeling strangely guilty that she was introducing them to things she really shouldn't be, Buffy only nodded, watching the expressions of wonder and awe flitter all over Anastasia finely cut, oval face. The girl saw Buffy's answer and her eyebrows rose in surprise.  
  
"How on earth do the records fit in side it? It's too small!" She looked like an excited child being taken to her first movie and asking how the people got so big up on the screen. Buffy only grinned, showing her white teeth.  
  
"The things in those boxes go in there, don't they, Buffy?" A little voice beside her asked confidently and the Slayer turned and looked at Alexei. She followed his pointed finger and saw that he meant the CDs. Turning them so that he could see, she picked up her `Creed' CD and opened the box, revealing the silver disk inside. The blonde child was leaning over her to get a better look at what was in her lap, his hand on her shoulder for balance.  
  
"They're called CDs, Baby." She told him. At his adorable, confused expression she tried to explain. "It stands for Compact Disk." Looking up at Anastasia, she held her hand out, which the girl instantly filled with the CD player. Demonstrating, Buffy took the CD out of its case, placed it in the player and shut the lid with a snap.  
  
She looked up at the five royals around her, trying to figure out who was going to go first. They all saw her intention and grinned. "Alexei, do you want to go first?" Olga asked her younger brother. The boy's blue eyes lit up like a Christmas tree, nodding silently, his eyes still glued on the Discman.  
  
Smiling reassuringly at the young heir, Buffy carefully got the earplugs out of her bag, plugged them in and tried to straighten the knots out of the long, black cord. When she was finished, she picked up both earplugs in either hand and turned to the boy beside her, who was now looking considerably nervous, thinking maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.  
  
Everyone was watching as Buffy leaned over and attached the earplugs in Alexei's ears, the said subject wiggling the whole time. When Buffy laughed, he shot her a baffled grin. "It tickles!"  
  
When they were finally in, she leaned back and looked at him, making sure they were in right, before turning back to the grey machine in her lap. "Right." She muttered to herself. "What song..." She racked her brain, trying to think of what song would be easiest to listen to. When she had decided she pushed the `On' button, the girls frowning when they saw the black numbers the appeared on the small screen.  
  
Pushing the `Skip' button until she came to the one she wanted, Buffy also remembered to turn the volume right down until it could barely be heard. She didn't want to blow the poor boy's eardrums. "Ready?" she asked Alexei, who hesitantly nodded his head.  
  
Pushing `Play', Buffy watched Alexei's face closely; smiling when his blue eyes suddenly opened wide a few seconds later, his eyebrows almost hitting the roof. His hands instantly flew up to his ears, hovering beside the earplugs as he breathed out in amazement.  
  
The boy turned to his sisters, all who had their eyes glued on their brother's face intently. "I can hear the music in my ears!" he cried excitedly. "Turn it up, Buffy!" he told her absently.  
  
Now the Slayer looked surprised. How had he realised you could turn up the volume? She hadn't said anything when she had turned it down. Putting it down to the fact that he must have been watching her do it, she shrugged and turned the volume up a little higher.  
  
Now the boy just laughed in delight. Looking at the Slayer, his brilliant, sea-blue eyes shining, he asked, "Can I listen to another one?"  
  
She shrugged again. "Sure."  
  
And that was how they spent the next half an hour, each of the children going through a mixture of the four CD's that she had with her, each deciding their favourites. Alexei stayed faithfully devoted to the `Creed' CD, although he loved her `Robbie William's' one. Marie and Anastasia decided instantly that they adored `Destiny's Child' while the two eldest girl's surprised Buffy by liking her `Ricky Martian' CD.  
  
They only stopped when Buffy sadly informed them that the Batteries would one day run out. Since they didn't have a plug that would take her charger, she knew she wouldn't be able to play it ever again when they finally did run out. But that still didn't stop them discussing the music. In fact, they were so engrossed in their conversations that everyone failed to notice the door open and a head poke in.  
  
Alexandra's eyebrows rose in bewilderment as she took in the scene before her. "What in the world is going on in here?" she asked, all sound cutting off instantly when they heard her voice.  
  
They all smiled. "Buffy was showing us some of the things she brought from America." Marie told her mother casually.  
  
"Really?" Alexandra asked the Slayer, who nodded in response. "Well, my darlings, that will have to wait. Your father is waiting for you in the dining room. Have you all completely forgotten you haven't had any breakfast?"  
  
The children all looked at each other blankly. Indeed, they had forgotten to have breakfast. Only when Anastasia's tummy obediently grumbled did they all smile. "I'm hungry." The girl informed them all bluntly, getting up from the bed and heading over to her mother.  
  
Tatiana laughed. "Your always hungry."  
  
And with that, they all filed out of the room, ready to start another day.  
  
***  
  
"This really was a good idea." Nicholas informed them all, stretching out on his sun chair, letting the sun hit his calm face.  
  
"Since it was mine, I accept the compliment, dear brother." Olga Alexandrovna answered him dryly. She had surprised them all by calling unannounced for breakfast this morning, even if she was horrified at the late hour they were having it.  
  
"And so you should." He chuckled. "Who would have thought the weather was going to be so fine today that we could eat breakfast outside on the deck?" And that was were they were. Out side on the bottom floor balcony, surrounding a large outdoor table that seemed to be bolted to the floor. They were all stretched out in chairs, letting their bodies be warmed by the sun, although all the girls had hats on to protect their skin, Buffy included.  
  
No one bothered answering Nicholas in words, although Alix murmured a reply for her husband. Everyone was doing something to keep them busy, for Alexandra hated to see people with empty hands. Anastasia and Alexei were playing a board game while they both sat on neighbouring seats. Both Olga's were sowing while Tatiana tried to teach Buffy how to cross-stitch. Needless to say, she wasn't getting very far.  
  
Nicholas, on the other hand, was sorting through a pile of papers that were on his lap. Buffy had eyed it warily earlier; the pile had looked far too big to her. They were all content, engrossed at what they were doing. Then Nicholas suddenly spoke.  
  
"Remember we have the Ball on Friday, everyone." They all looked at him in surprise, having completely forgotten about any ball. He looked at them blankly then gave a tolerant smile. "Don't tell me you all forgot!" He sighed dramatically. "For the Marquis de Villasinda." He said, trying to refresh their memories. They had the good grace to look bashful, as they still didn't know what he was talking about.  
  
Nicholas tried again. "The Spanish ambassador?" His brown eyebrows were raised, as if he expected this to jog their memories.  
  
He laughed when they all suddenly went "Oh!". All that is, except Buffy, who still didn't have a clue what the Tsar was talking about. Looking around, she saw everyone start to talk about the upcoming ball. Leaning over to Olga Alexandrovna, who was on her other side, she whispered,  
  
"There's gonna be a ball?" she asked. The Aunt looked across at the Slayer as if she had suddenly remembered she was there.  
  
"Good Gracious!" she cried, putting her hand on her heart. "I had completely forgotten about you, my dear." Buffy frowned, not knowing if that was a compliment or not. Giving the Slayer her full attention, Olga pulled her hat up higher on her head, allowing her to see all of Buffy's face.  
  
"Yes, Buffy, there most certainly will be." She snorted in a very un-lady like manner. "A great many, I dear say." Seeing the smile that was starting to form on the Slayer's lips, Olga grinned back at her. "Am I to take it that you like balls?"  
  
Not about to tell her that she had never been to a ball in her life...well, not if you don't count the prom, Buffy just nodded. "Ahh, yes?" hoping that was the right answer.  
  
She saw it was when Olga clapped her hands in delight. "Well, you will most certainly enjoy this one, my dear. It's going to be wonderful!"  
Buffy just stared at her. "I'm aloud to go?" she finally asked, stunned. Olga gave her a bewildered expression and swatted the Slayer on her arm.  
  
"Of course you are aloud to go! Dear child, did you think we would lock you up in the house while we go and enjoy ourselves?" Not waiting for Buffy's answer, she leaned into the Slayer and whispered playfully. "And this ball is going to be even more exciting than the rest!" Seeing the Slayer's confused look, she explained. "For Alexandra will be attending!"  
  
Olga shook her head sadly, while secretly the two woman looked over at Alix who had her eyes closed, her face peaceful. "It hasn't made her many friends, I dear say. People mistake it for pride, but that's just not that case." The pretty woman sighed. "She's just so shy! Public functions have never been her thing, poor woman."  
  
Abruptly, she cheered up. "Alas, the whole family will be in attendance this time!" She screwed up her face playfully. "And all for Marquis de Villasinda, Pugh! I detest the man!" Buffy watched in amazement at all the expressions that flew over the Tsar's sister's face.  
  
"And of course they will be fussing a lot over you, my dear." Olga told Buffy bluntly. She threw up her hands. "There will be questions everywhere! Everyone wanting to know where you came from! And when they find out you are America...ah!" She shook her head again, this time in annoyance. "I will get no peace, I can see it now."  
  
She turned to the Slayer to see how she handled all she had heard, and was quite startled to see the frown on Buffy's face. Clucking her tongue, young woman patted Buffy on her knee reassuringly.  
  
"Don't be afraid, darling. Some of them can be right vultures, I admit, but most of the nobility are rather nice, I assure you." She laughed as she said that, trying to lighten the Slayer's mood. But still Buffy frowned. No, Olga decided. She looks downright worried.  
  
"It's not the nobility I'm worried about, Olga." Buffy told her in a quiet voice. "I can take care of myself, don't you worry."  
  
Yes, Olga thought with a smile. You most certainly can. "Then whatever is the matter?"  
  
Buffy bit her lip, wondering how much to reveal to the lovely woman. "It's just...I don't know if I should be seen out in public very much. Things could get very nasty if people start to talk."  
  
Olga frowned. "Whatever do you mean by that?"  
  
What was she suppose to tell her? That if people start asking questions or looking her up that they will find nothing? That she didn't really exist here? And what if someone took a photo of her and it ended up in a book somewhere, how was she suppose to explain that when she returned home? Buffy didn't like the way things were going, not one bit.  
  
Turning her attention back to Olga, Buffy sighed. "It's just, wont they think its weird when they find out I'm staying with Nicholas, Alexandra and the children? I don't want to give them a bad name or anything." It wasn't a lie, not really, but Buffy still felt terrible saying it.  
  
She's worried about us, Olga realised, touched deeply. Reaching over, she put both hands on the Slayer's shoulders and kissed her forehead gently. She smiled softly down at her. "They wouldn't dare." She told her simply. "Nicholas is allowed to have whomever he wishes staying in his house, just as they are."  
  
Buffy still didn't look convinced. "I'm not much of a people person either. Is there going to be heaps of people there?" she asked warily.  
  
Olga laughed. "Hundreds." She told her truthfully. Buffy winced, which Olga noticed. "Don't worry, Buffy. We'll look after you." Then she suddenly smiled brightly. "And you can meet my darling Nicolai! I've told him all about you, he's dying to meet you!"  
  
Starting to feel a little better, Buffy realising that there wasn't much she could do about the attention. If she were going to be staying with the Romanov's then she would just have to get used to it, she told herself firmly. If anything happened because of it, well, she would just deal with it when the time came.  
  
And anyway, she had her first Ball to be looking forward to! 


	5. The Winter Ball B

PART FIVE (B): "The Winter Ball"  
  
1 Wednesday, January 18, 1915  
  
The Alexander Palace, Tsarskoe Selo.  
  
St Petersburg, Russia.  
  
Using the Slayer skills that she had been perfecting for the last five years or so, Buffy silently glided down the softly lit hallway, her eyes darting from one side to the other, looking in every available space. Underneath the small marble table with its pretty lilacs in the tall Chinese vase, behind the huge pot plant that's flowers brushed the tall roof, its arm branches almost as wide. She searched the hall with her eyes, taking in every detail as she looked.  
  
Beneath the huge chandeliers that fell from the ceiling, a thick Oriental rug was sprayed on the gleaming parquet floor. Her feet were void of sound as she walked, her satin slippers sliding safely across the material. Looking up, the Slayer noticed the sapphire and silver brocade curtains that were pushed back from the tall windows, allowing what sun there were to light the room slightly as the smell of a hundred different flowers flooded her senses.  
  
But of all the things she saw, the object she was searching for managed to stay out of her grasp and the Slayer frowned, frustrated beyond words. She had been walking around the family's private wing of the Palace for the last 20 minutes and she still hadn't managed to find her prize, although she had almost managed to get lost a few times on the way. She was actually looking for Alexei; the two of them had been wasting a boring morning while the girls were having their lessons by hiding from one another while the other looked. It was actually quite a complex game and Buffy was surprised to find she was enjoying herself. With the huge palace as their playground, it was almost impossible to find the other person.  
  
"Where are you…." Buffy whispered to herself, and gave a sigh of defeat, deciding that it was hopeless. She was just starting to turn around when suddenly she heard a sound. It wasn't anything big, probably just the sound of moving furniture, but to the Slayer, it was victory.  
  
She grinned to herself, hurrying further down the hall as she followed the break of silence. Buffy stopped when she found herself standing in front of a half open door. Curious, she poked her head in slowly, but finding it empty she straightened, pushed the door open wide and walked in.  
  
She noticed instantly that this room was like none other in the palace that she had seen so far. It had none of the luxury of the grand entranceway or Alexandra's formal reception room. Instead, the walls were a comfortable light green, the curtains that hung beside the large clear windows a pale cream. The floor was wooden, covered only partly by two large dark green rugs in the centre.  
  
And fully covering the back wall was a large, imposing blackboard.  
  
Buffy startled, then a grin slowly appeared on her face as she realised what purpose this room held. Guessing correctly, she knew she had found one of the children's classrooms. Silent, the Slayer slowly walked around the room, letting her fingers brush across the two desks idly as she gazed intently down at the covers of the many books that littered on their surfaces. Many of the books she had never heard of, so she passed them quickly.  
  
Her hand had just fallen on a very old, tattered version of Les Miserables when she suddenly heard the sound of footprints briskly walking in her direction. She had just jerked her head up in surprise when a furious voice echoed down the hallway,  
  
"…Alexei Nicholaivich, you may be the future Tsar, but for the time being it is your father, and when he finds out how you have been behaving, I swear he will have second thoughts of placing someone with your manners on the throne of Russia!!"  
  
And with that, the door that she had partly pushed closed was thrown open so forcefully that it bounced back on the wall with a furious crash and a tall figure marched in. He completely missed the stunned Slayer standing at the back of the room as he walked purposefully towards the desk in the right hand corner and smashed the dark leather briefcase he had been carrying under one arm down on its surface.  
  
"Honestly, child! Is it so hard to actually turn up for lessons on time for once?" He cried, his back to Buffy, his heavy English rebounding around the room. Buffy watched, her hand still frozen on the cover of Les Miserables as he thrust his hand into the briefcase, still obviously furious, and yanked out a wad of crisp paper. And with that, the man finally turned around, his arm raised to his chest with the paper still stuck in his grasp.  
  
He froze, his eyes flying open wide in surprise as he came face to face with Buffy, standing next the desk, her face reflecting a mixture of shock and awe as she stared right back at the man.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Pierre Gilliard had truly had enough.  
  
In fact, he was so sick of his pupil not turning up for lessons that he was 'this close' to actually going to said pupil's father and having a firm word with the man about his son's time management skills…. Tsar or no Tsar.  
  
But seriously, the boy was acting like he was five years old again. And Gilliard remembered instinctively how the Tsarevich had been like at five because he had known the boy since he was 18 months old! He remembered many a time when the little toddler would escape from the many arms set aside to protect him and toddle down the hall and break into his sisters' classroom, interrupting their lessons, and have to be carried off, arms waving.  
  
But the boy generally liked his lessons, and Pierre and the Tsarevich got on tremendously. Then why, oh why, had the boy been late for every single lesson this week? The Swiss gentlemen could not understand it.  
  
So here he was, thundering down the hallway towards the classroom that had been serving the children as such for the last 10 or so years, in a mood as black as hell. Under his breath he was muttering, "Keep you head, don't lose control…" When all he really wanted to do was corner the blonde child and drag the information out of him. But, as he kept reminding himself, the boy was the heir, and as much freedom and leniency he had with this family, he didn't think acting so disrespectful would be any help furthering his career.  
  
Pierre Gilliard had been teaching the Imperial Children for almost 15 years. At first it had been the two older girls, then gradually as they got older, Marie and Anastasia. Then when Alexei turned eight years old, the Empress asked the Swiss gentlemen to teach her son French also. So now he taught them all, carving himself a nice little notch within the family. Along with an Englishman named Sidney Gibbes, who taught them his native language, they were the children's main teachers. They went everywhere with them, following the family as the winter suddenly arrived and they started their year long tour around Europe to paradises like the Crimean palace of Livadia and then onto Finland and beyond.  
  
He had been with them for so long, and knew them all so well, that he truthfully expected Alexei Nicholaivich to be in the room waiting for him – with a sheepish grin no less – that he didn't even bother turning in the expected direction, only going ahead and bellowing to the limit he sensed appropriate. And that was why he got the surprise of his life when he finally did turn in Alexei's direction, only to find not the Tsarevich at all…but a very pretty teenager that he had never met before in his life.  
  
Gilliard was, for the first time, completely speechless. And by the way she was standing there, eyes almost as wide as Marie's, staring at him with what he guessed was a combination of wariness and shock, he could tell she was too.  
  
Caught completely off guard, the Imperial Children's tutor looked her over, trying to get some idea at who she was. The clothes he didn't recognise, but they were of the same style that he knew the Empress dressed her own daughters. The lightweight white dress ended just above her ankles and was tied around the waist with a thin cream-coloured ribbon, which from that flowed another layer of material. This was made of thin yellow mesh and fell over the dress until it reached her thighs, where it was hemmed to a stop. The front of the bodice was ribbed and covered with tiny pearl diamantes, which formed the shape of a large, opened flower on her chest. It had a low, square neckline, with the material meeting up at her shoulders where, on either side, it was pinned together with a large diamond like an ancient Greek peplos. This allowed the excess material to flow down her forearms in transparent, silky waves.  
  
"Ahh, can I help you?" Pierre hoped that was an appropriate question to ask, because for the life of him he could not identify this charming creature. For a moment there, he had thought she was the children's cousin, Irina, for she looked about the same age as the Tsar's sister Xenia's only daughter, but then, shaking his head, he reminding himself of the stupidity of that thought. Why would Irina be in their classroom of all places?  
  
Taking a step forward, hesitantly, afraid to scare her even more, Pierre had just taken a few steps when the girl suddenly broke out in a wide smile and started to chuckle lightly to herself. One eyebrow raised in question, the tutor regarded her oddly.  
  
But when she pushed herself away from the desk and casually held out her hand, Pierre was at a complete loss. Thankfully, the girl put him out of his misery. "You must be Monsieur Gilliard, am I right?" she asked in English, her accent obviously American. Shaking his head confusion, the man only nodded his head. Taking the girl's outstretched hand in his, he raised it to his lips and delivered a chaste kiss on its top.  
  
"I've heard all about you from the girls." Seeing he was still lost, Buffy smiled softly. "I'm Buffy Summers. I've been…."  
  
But as soon as he had heard her name the Swiss gave a bark of laughter, visible relief showing on his face. Patting her arm kindly, he bustled her across the room towards his desk, where he proceeded to pull out the chair and gesture that she should take a seat. As she did so, he reached over and grabbed the other seat from the desk, making it shriek as he pulled it across the floor. Taking a seat himself, the tall, dark haired young man was grinning from ear to ear as he turned to face her.  
  
"Now I know who you are, madam." He started, resting an elbow of the surface of the desk. Giving a dramatic sigh, he rolled his eyes. "You had me worried there for a minute, my dear. I hadn't a clue who you were." Buffy thought to herself that he still did seem a tad nervous, his hands were shaking.  
  
"The Tsarevich mentioned that they had a little visitor staying with them from overseas." He grinned kindly, his moustache twitching in amusement. "I must inform you, my dear, that you have started a wave of curiosity around the palace. Everyone is just dying to meet you."  
  
Buffy frowned. "Really? I hope not." Suddenly anxious, the Slayer leaned back in her chair and folded one leg over the other. "I had enough of being in the rumour mill at High School, thank you very much."  
  
Pierre just smiled slightly. "Oh, you wont find them saying anything bad, I assure you. Everyone in the palace is just dying to meet the person who has brought such life to the Tsarevich in the last few days."  
  
Buffy looked at him in surprise, not expecting him to come out with that. "What do you mean, Monsieur?"  
  
Gilliard shrugged, something that Buffy thought looked totally uncharacteristic for the man, as he too, leaned back and got comfortable. Looking her straight in the eye, he told her bluntly, "You must know by now that Alexei isn't a healthy child, yes?" When Buffy nodded, he continued. "Well, he isn't normally allowed out much, so he is usually quite a subdued little boy." Then he chuckled. "Well, mostly. He can be as evil as his sisters when he wants to be."  
  
Reaching over, he patted the Slayer's knee kindly. "But in the last few days he has been a picture of health. Not in a long time can I remember him being so happy. And if what I am hearing is correct, that my dear, is because of you."  
  
Buffy didn't know what to say. Not for a second would she have pegged Alexei for anything but what he had been since she arrived. He had as active as his sisters. Since the first morning on the balcony of the palace, the Grand Duchesses and the Slayer had always gotten up at the crack of dawn, dressed quietly in their thick woollen dresses, wrapped themselves in warm fur robes and silently padded down the hallways and stairs of the Alexander Palace until they found themselves standing on the threshold of the front entranceway. There, they would look at each other with matching grins and dive down the steps, shrieking in joy as they covered themselves from head to toe in snow.  
  
From there they would spend the morning playing in the snow or ice-skating. The girls had been delighted to find Buffy such an excellent skater and they had always enjoyed themselves immensely. And the main thing was, Alexei had always joined them.  
  
But only now, thinking back with more clarity, did Buffy suddenly realise the differences between the boy and his sister's play. He had skated with them, yes, but never to the extent of the others. They would run around like fools, fall over and hurt their knees and feet and have to wear slippers for the rest of the day. He never did. Always had one of the sisters led him around by holding his gloved hand firmly in one of their own. He had not tobogganed down the banks as the girls had, along with the other children of the palace, the young sons and daughters of the Tsar's staff. He had always sat on the side, clapping in delight as he watched them glide past, giggling in pleasure, waving back at him.  
  
And always…*always*…had there been the two imposing bulks of the tree-trunk- like men standing never to far away. As he had skated around with his sisters, Nagorny and Derevenko had stood on the banks of the frozen lake, arms folded across their chests, legs slightly apart, watching the boy zoom past with eagle eyes. And if anything got to rough, or the Tsarevich almost fell, one of the men would growl deeply in warning and the person with Alexei would flinch and tighten their grip on the boy, sending wary glances at the two men. Even Marie and her sisters.  
  
If anything, this distressed the Slayer more than it should. She was frowning deeply, lost in thought, as Pierre Gilliard waved a hand in front of her face, trying to get her attention. "Madam?" he asked. "Buffy?"  
  
The girl snapped back into reality with the calling of her name. Looking across into Pierre's dark featured face, Buffy gave her head a quick shake. "I'm sorry, Monsieur. Did you say something?" But the man just smiled in reassurance, seeing that what he had said had not only confused the girl, but troubled her deeply as well. Pierre would bet his life that she hadn't the slightest clue to the true nature of Alexei's illness.  
  
"It's fine, my dear." He cocked his head to the side slightly. "I just thought you should know what a help you have been around here for the last few days."  
  
But at that, Buffy frowned again, and shook her head, allowing a tendril of blonde hair to fall from its pins on top of her head. "Really, I didn't to a thing." She argued. "I just always thought he was like that." She shrugged. "Ok, I knew he wasn't well from what Mashka had told me, but I had no idea he was seriously sick."  
  
Pierre laughed bitterly. "You would be the only person in Russia who didn't, child." The tutor sighed regretfully. "They all have their own version of what they think is wrong with the boy, but I'm afraid none are correct."  
  
Buffy looked at him pointly. "And?" she asked, regretting it as soon as it was out of her mouth. She had no business asking him this question, she knew, but somehow she could stop herself. "What really is wrong with him?"  
  
At that, Pierre visibly stiffened and Buffy grimaced, knowing she had gone to far.  
  
When the man abruptly stood up clear of his chair, the Slayer risked a glance up at his face. But when she raised her eyes and stared up into his face, she was surprised to find him smiling, not in the least angry. Extending a hand down, Gilliard helped the Slayer to her feet. When they were both standing, Pierre kept hold of her hand, causing Buffy to look at him in confusion.  
  
What she saw in his face stunned her completely. He looked outwardly calm. He had a slight smile on his face, but Buffy noticed that his eyes were misty with withheld emotion. He looked as if he was about to cry. Still gripping her hands in his, he brought her hands up to his mouth and gave them a kiss.  
  
"Dearest, child." He whispered. "I know you are a visitor in this palace by the invitation of the Tsar himself, but please, I beg of you, stay as far away from that matter as you can." He shook his head slightly and told her with heartbreaking kindness. "It is no business to anyone but to the boy and his family." He looked down at the ground for a moment before raising his head again. "There is already to much sadness in this family, and you have already brought them all so much happiness…. I do not want you to be burdened with their troubles as well."  
  
Suddenly he threw a despairing glance at the door but quickly turned back to the stunned Slayer and whispered desperately. "He deserves far more joy in his life. Just make him happy. It is all we ask of you."  
  
And with that, with Buffy still staring into his eyes, trying to decipher what he was telling her, the sound of footprints again sounded in the hallway. Tearing her emerald eyes away from the tutors, Buffy glanced at the door just in time to see the little figure of Alexei come jogging through, blonde hair flying. At his heals, barking madly and springing into the air, was a small white and grey dog with long floppy ears that almost touched the ground. Buffy recognised her instantly as the Tsarevich's spaniel, Joy.  
  
Alexei was puffing with the effort of what had obviously been a long run with he looked in and saw not on his expected tutor but his new friend as well.  
  
Startled, he looked back and forth between the two with the Romanov's legendary blue eyes, trying to see what they were talking about. His golden face was flushed pink, making his eyes glitter as he suddenly laughed again, turned around, and ran back out of the room, leaving a trail of child's laughter and a dog's bark echoing around the walls.  
  
And it was then, looking back at Pierre's face and seeing the look of undying love his held for that boy, that Buffy suddenly realised the tragedy of the double life that was living in the walls of this amazing palace. Outwardly, they were the proper loving family that the millions of Russian people expected of them…. but on the inside…. they were in agony. Living their lives day to day, which were centred on a pair of anguished parents, a stricken little boy, and the sisters who adored him.  
  
But what Buffy did not know was that their lives were fixed in a pattern of survival. Not only for themselves, but for a dynasty that rested on the shoulders of an 11-year-old child who suffered more than most, and who had inside him a tiny defect that would change the history of Russia and the world.  
  
From that fateful day in1904 when the heir of the Russian throne had been born into the world, the central concern of this family was their fight against the one royal disease that had the power to destroy them.  
  
And that disease was Hemophilia.  
  
  
  
*****  
  
Three hours later…  
  
Alix sighed. "No, Buffy. Left! Not right!"  
  
The Slayer ground her teeth together and took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. Tatiana, who was standing opposite her, grinned as she saw how hard the young woman was trying not to snap at her mother. Gracefully raising her hand, Tatiana again gripped Buffy's and held it firmly level with their chests. Her other hand rested on the Slayer's lace covered waist.  
  
They were standing in Alexandra's formal reception room, which at the moment looked anything but, for all the carpets and tables had been pushed to the side. Tatiana and Buffy stood in the middle, locked in the pose, while Marie and her mother stood off to the side. Actually, Marie was leaning up against the door, her arms folded across her chest, watching the scene before her with undeniable interest…not to mention amusement.  
  
Alix on the other hand could not be less amused than her daughter. She had never in her life come across someone who danced as poorly as the Slayer. Oh, the grace for the movements was there, something that she had bluntly informed the girl (Buffy not telling her that what grace she did have came from the moves she used to kill demons) but she lacked the rhythm. It was already Wednesday and they only had one more full day of practising until Buffy would have to put her training to good use at the Winter Ball on Friday. Truthfully, Alix was frantic. She wondered if the girl would ever be ready.  
  
"Come, girls." Alix instructed. "Do try it again." Looking at Marie, she raised her eyebrows pointly. The girl sighed, pushed herself away from the wall and began to clap her hands for a rhythm.  
  
Tatiana and Buffy got themselves ready, Buffy counting "One, two, three" under her breath as she went, and looking Tatiana in the eye, started moving when the time came. Up and down, front and back…the two girls glided across the floor silently. The Slayer was looking down at her feet, making sure she didn't stand on Tatiana's until she felt someone put a finger under her chin and raise it. Looking up, she grinned at Tatiana and mouthed "sorry". But she only smiled, and then, with a wicked grin, she quickened the pace and widened their berth.  
  
Suddenly, Buffy found that she had got it and laughed, letting Tatiana led as they danced around the outskirts Alexandra's room. She could fell their skirts swishing with their movements but she didn't care, only tightening their grip and forgot about her feet, letting herself be carried away with the dance. She barely heard Alix give a un-lady like yell of "Yes!" as she noticed Buffy dancing correctly.  
  
When they finally stopped they were both panting and wore matching grins on their faces. Turning to Alix, Buffy raised an eyebrow in question. Alix and Marie were clapping their hands at her in delighted…and playing along; Buffy curtsied just as she had been taught. She folded her legs and gracefully fell almost to the floor, one arm sprayed across her chest, head bowed. This made Alix clap even harder, and when she straightened fluidly, the Empress gave Buffy a hug and a kiss on the check.  
  
"Well done, child!" She gave her a mock stern look. "Didn't I tell you it was in there somewhere? I knew if you practiced hard enough you would get it in the end!" Then, putting her hands on her hips, the Tsarina looked around the now bare room. "What we need is a real ball." She muttered. "Nothing like the real thing."  
  
With that Marie suddenly giggled and ran from the room. The three women looked at her retreating back with raised eyebrows. "Where is she going?" Tatiana asked, voicing what they were all thinking. But Alix only shrugged it away. "She'll be back, mark my words. That girl always needs to be in the thick of things. Now…"  
  
Walking over to the table that one of the family's Phonographs was placed, Alix started to fiddle around with it. She was just turning around again when Marie suddenly ran back in the room, one hand dragging a blonde man Buffy didn't know. But when Tatiana suddenly put her hand over her mouth to sniffle a giggle of her own, Buffy followed her gaze, only to be surprised to see Anastasia walk into the room, both of her hands dragging bodies. Looking up, Buffy laughed at the look of utter terror on Pierre Gilliard's face and completely hopelessness on Nicholas'.  
  
Walking into the centre of the room, Anastasia proudly informed her mother, "Here you go, maman, we have found you a ball!"  
  
As the music started to play, the Romanov's and their friends all got into place, and playing along, they all bowed to their chosen partners. Marie was dancing with her father, Alix with the blonde man who introduced himself to the Slayer as none other than Sidney Gibbes, the children's English teacher, and Tatiana was dancing with Anastasia. That left Buffy and Pierre.  
  
He smiled at her as they bow and curtsied to each other, and when he took her hand he gave her a friendly squeeze. "So I hear from Marie Nicholaievna that you have just recently mastered the art of dancing?" Buffy shrugged. "Yeah, so don't go to fast, will you?" she asked, grinning.  
  
He bowed his head, agreeing. And with that, the Swiss gentlemen danced her around the room and out the door, followed close behind by the rest of the family. The sound of their laughing could be heard in the other end of the building as they danced through the hallways of the Alexander Palace.  
  
********  
  
Friday, January 20, 1915….  
  
It was 7.30 in the evening and the palace was filled with an eerie silence as Olga, Tatiana, Marie, Anastasia and Buffy padded down the corridor of the children's floor. Most of the staff had been given the night off, but those who where needed to help the family prepare for the big night ahead where asked to stay behind. There had been so much to do, like getting the girls hair up, where it was wrapped in a mixture of jewels when it was fixed into place onto of their heads, Anastasia not included of course. Girls under the age of 16 where allowed to wear their hair down in public, a fact that Marie liked to tease her little sister, for she had turned 16 half a year ago.  
  
Dresses needed to be pressed and have a final going over before being gently placed on their wearers. The four Grand Duchesses where wearing matching white lace gowns with embroiled flowers on their hems. They had layers of lace on the front of the bodice and on the arms, making the girls look innocent and pure, the look that Alexandra had been obviously going for. Buffy, on the other hand, had been allowed to wear colours other than white, as she was not a member of the family. Not wanting to overly stand out in the crowd, she had decided to go for a pale light blue gown of similar style to her friends, except that it was designed in the style that foreign ladies in Russia thought was shockingly far off the shoulder. And it was, the whole of her shoulders, her neck and the top of her chest were dangerously low and visible.  
  
Around her waist was tied a thin white ribbon, which defined the slight curves of her waist overtop of the corset she wore. Around her neck she wore a single strand of pearls that dipped into the low, open neckline of her gown. Overtop of the necklace she wore a chocker made of dozens of clusters of emeralds and rubies. The Slayer had thought it far to heavy to wear dancing, but the look on Alexandra's face as she saw her in it made her change her mind and wear it. Threaded in her hair were tiny diamonds, so small that they could hardly be seen, apart from that glittering shimmer they gave off as she moved. They only other jewellery that she wore was the diamond ring given to her just days before by the Tsar's daughters and a pair of sapphire earrings of Mashka's. But as she had steered at herself in the mirror after getting the diamonds threaded into her hair, she had wondered who this girl was. For it was not here, not the Buffy that she remembered herself being only a week before.  
  
Now, she looked dignified. Graceful. And incomparably beautiful. She could imagine the look on Angel's face if he saw her now. He would be stunned, probably not even recognising her if he passed her by.  
  
She also looked positively wealthy. The Romanovs were one of the richest families on the planet, and they were surely going to prove it tonight, Buffy knew. There would be jewels and priceless dresses everywhere she looked.  
  
But now, the girls were wrapped form head to toe in thick fur coats that concealed their bodies from view as they made their way down the main staircase and into the foyer of the palace. Buffy was nervous as hell and she knew the others could see it for they kept sending her reassuring little smiles whenever she looked their way. Looking up, the Slayer caught sight of The Emperor and Empress standing by the door.  
  
Buffy gaped at them in awe. Before now, she had already known just who they were, and had always tried to act respectful in their presence, but the full idea of what they represented only hit her at this moment. Standing before her where not simply Nicholas and Alexandra, the people who had kindly sheared their home with her over the past week, or given her dancing lessons a few days earlier. They were the Imperial Majesties of the greatest empire on earth. They were the people who made history.  
  
Standing next to her husband in a pale silver brocade gown sewn with diamonds, was Alix. In her hair was a large emerald tiara. As the girls came down the stairs, they both broke their hushed conversation and turned in their directions, huge smiles breaking out on their faces as the teenagers approached.  
  
Nicholas grasped Buffy's hand in his and brought it up to his month, planting a soft kiss on its surface. Looking deeply into her eyes, the Tsar's own eyes were twinkling as he murmured, "You look wonderful, my child."  
  
Secretly pleased, Buffy smiled back at him. "You don't look to bad yourself."  
  
Olga was looking around the room with a frown on her wide, open face. "Where is Baby, maman?" she asked her mother and Alix gave a tired sigh. "You know what that child is like, my dear. Last time I checked on him he was just looking for his boots. He isn't on time for anything."  
  
"Here I am, everyone!" A voice called and they all turned to see Alexei come jogging down the stairs, a hat clutched underneath his arms. He too, was dressed in a fur coat, and it positively swallowed his small frame.  
  
"Alexei, don't run!" Nicholas called, shooting his wife an anxious glance. Luckily, the boy did as he was ordered and slowed down to a walk, sighing in regret as he did so. He smiled softly at the Slayer as he joined them, and with a proper tilt to his chin, held his arm out smugly. Laughing, Buffy took it and the Tsarevich led her out the door into the frozen wilderness of Russia.  
  
Now that they were all accounted for, the rest of the family followed Buffy and Alexei down the many steps of the Alexander Palace quickly, wanting to get out of the cold weather. As they neared the bottom of the steps, it was only then that Buffy noticed two huge black carriages that were drawn up in a line at the base of the steps. They were closed carriages, for which Buffy was instantly grateful, and on the side on the doors was a large gold imprint of a two-headed eagle, the Imperial sign of the Romanovs.  
  
As they neared, the fur wrapped porters on either side of the door briskly opened the doors for them, and a pair of steps fell from within. Without even discussing it, Alexandra, Alexei, Tatiana and Olga left them others and headed for the second carriage, the two girls giving Buffy a quick squeeze on the arm as they went, telling her that they would see her soon. When they left, Buffy turned back and watched curiously as the porter held out his hand respectfully for Nicholas and helped the Tsar up through the small doorway.  
  
While she waited, and trying to calm her nerves, Buffy looked up into the frozen Russian sky, trying to place any of the stars from home. As she looked, a flitter of snow floated down and landed on her powered nose, causing the Slayer to sneeze. Looking outwards from the palace, Buffy could make out the smaller buildings that were building around the Alexander Park, which made up the Imperial village of Tsarskoe Selo. Squinting, she could just make out the huge boundaries of the Catharine Palace, which was about three times larger than the Alexander.  
  
"Buffy?" A voice asked from in front of her, and the girl started, seeing Anastasia peering at her from within the carriage. The girl smiled mischievously at the Slayer. "Are you coming or not?" she asked, and Buffy realised she now stood alone in the cold. Blushing in embarrassment, Buffy gave her hand to the young man beside the door, who grinned back at her and helped her up the steps. When she was in she sat next to Nicholas and turned to watch the same young man push the door shut.  
  
He was looking at her, she realised with a start. With an expressing of amusement mixed with curiosity planted on his dark featured, handsome face as he stood up on to the running board that ran beside the carriage for the Tsar's family's protection. Quickly looking away, she instead looked out the window on the other side of the carriage, and as she did, completely missing the stern look Nicholas sent the young man as he had followed her gaze.  
  
But any thoughts of the rude young man where pushed firmly from her mind as the drivers of the carriages suddenly gave furious yells and the cracks of whips could be heard as the 12 powerful horses suddenly lunged forward and floated noicelessly down the long driveway of the palace.  
  
As the carriage bounced along the road, Buffy tore her eyes away form the landscape as it flew by and grinned at Marie and Anastasia who were sitting opposite her. They did likewise and Buffy could tell that they too were looking forward to the long night ahead. Turning back to her window, the slayer put her gloved hand gracefully on the window sill and closed her eyes, listening to the bells of the carriages ring out through the black, frozen night as the horses steered them once more into the city that was built on water and was Russia's "Window on Europe."  
  
It was the city which Peter the Great had built on the marshes of the Neva River and which two hundred thousand labourers had died building. It was the strange, artificial capital at the head of the Baltic Sea. Calling the Venice of the North, the Babylon of the Snows, Peter's city was the heart of European Luxury.  
  
And it was, of course, St Petersburg of Russia.  
  
  
  
******  
  
Not much time later, Buffy was almost shaking with nerves. She couldn't believe she was attending a ball. An actual old-fashioned ball like in the movies and books. Wiping her now sweaty gloved hands on the seat below her, she looked over and saw Nicholas staring at her oddly with his head cocked to the side. She gave him a reassuring shaky smile, and went back to gazing out the window. At least that gave her something to do.  
  
With wide eyes, she watched as the trotted into St Petersburg and looked up at the huge buildings that flanked her as they sped past. Most were faultless examples of Russian Baroque and had mass amounts of decorative columns, metal gratings, fences, gates and railings or stately porches with delighted the eye with their exquisite designs.  
  
But to what she was about to see, these buildings might as well have been garden sheds.  
  
As the horse hooves cluttered on the cobbled street, they turned off the Nevsky Prospect and into the Palace Square. As the buildings seemingly parted respectively, Buffy got her first glimpse at the palace which was one of the most famous palaces in Europe, not to mention the most largest and most famous building in St Petersburg, if not Russia itself.  
  
As she looked, eyes open in stunned awe, the magnificent Winter Palace loomed into view. The first thing that popped into Buffy's head was that it was enormous.  
  
And she was right. The Winter Palace extended over 20 acres and the total perimeter measures over a mile (two km) long. It was built on the banks of the Neva River and was the undisputed heart of St Petersburg. Inside the palace there were 1,057 rooms and halls with a total floor space of 46,516 sq. metres, 117 staircases, 1,786 doors and 1,945 windows.  
  
Driving up the amazing driveway, in which an everlasting layer of lawns and fountains flashed you by, Buffy studied the building as they got closer. She instantly noticed that three gateway arches marked the main façade that was facing them. The bright green of the outer walls was effectively setting off the whiteness of the many columns and diversified windows, which Buffy could just make out, were surrounded by sculptures of cupid and lion masks.  
  
"Look at the roof, my dear." A voice sounded in her ear and Buffy jumped in fright. Turning her head, she saw Nicholas was beside her and he too, stared at the palace as the neared it. Obliging, Buffy looked up at the enormous roof and was surprised to see hundreds of little figures standing in the edge of it.  
  
"What are they?" She asked the Tsar, while squinting to make out the figures. But before Nicholas could answer, light exploded in front of the Slayer eyes. Jerking back, she watched in amazement as all the lights inside the palace suddenly turned on, bathing the remarkable building in an unearthly, artificial glow as if they knew that their Tsar neared.  
  
Answering her own question, Buffy realised that the figures looking down on them from the roof of the Winter Palace were in fact people. Hundreds of them. Turning to Nicholas, Buffy waited for an answer.  
  
"They are the previous Emperor and Empresses of Russia, my child." He told the Slayer, watching the figures with her. There was a proud glint in his eyes as he murmured, "My family."  
  
Studying the Tsar for a long moment, Buffy again looked at the imposing building in front of her, and noticed the endless procession of carriages that were that were lined outside the palace entranceway. But as their two black carriages circled around the proud base of the Aleksandrovskaia Kolonna, or Alexander Column in English, with its posing statue of the Angel with a cross which was built in the aftermath of the Napoleonic Wars, and drew up behind them, all the others moved aside, and the driver stopped the horses right in front of the entranceway.  
  
Buffy didn't have to wait long for the doors to be snapped open by a gloved man, and the steps were quickly pushed down. Buffy shivered despite that she was wearing a cloak made from heavy fur and pressed the hood firmly over her ears as she watched the new porter help the Tsar down from the carriage.  
  
When it was her turn, she held out her hand and gave the man a warm smile as he guided her out into the cold, the Slayer moving carefully so she didn't get the long hem of her expensive gown caught up under her slippers. Her feet landed with a soft pat on the thick velvet carpets, which were lying on the white marble stairs. Turning around gracefully, she watched the man deposit the last of her small train on the carpets behind her before turning back, searching for Marie amongst the masses of people.  
  
But when she heard her name called from behind her, the Slayer turned to see Olga walking up to meet her from the other carriage. The Tsar's eldest daughter was grinning from ear to ear and had a faint pink tinge to her checks. "There you are!" she scolded as she reached the Slayer's side. "Are you ready?" she asked, looking around her in fascination.  
  
Buffy swallowed nervously. "As I'll ever be, I guess." she muttered. Reaching up, she lowered the thick hoot of her clock, winching as the wind whipped at her exposed ears. Following Olga's example, she unclasped the large button at her chest and waited as one of the many attendants reached up and gently took the clock off her shoulders. Now that she once again had full movement in her body, she craned her neck upwards.  
  
Great columns of jasper, marble and malachite where supporting the high gilded ceiling of the intimidating palace above her. Even out here in a cold there were rows and rows of baskets of huge white orchids and roses along the walls. Looking around her curiously, the Slayer was bombarded by the heavy scents of the perfumes that the ladies wore. There were seemingly hundreds of people milling around outside, all laughing and socialising with their peers.  
  
Buffy eyed the gorgeous dresses that fell from the woman's shoulders. These were some of the most important and wealthiest people in Russia and the jewels that adored them brought a gasp of awe to the Slayer's lips. There was a beautiful woman with raven black hair covered in emeralds. Other woman were drowning in sapphires and rubies. The Slayer spotted a young girl no older than herself wearing a thick girdle of diamonds around her waist.  
  
Never again would the world know such splendour, such enchantment, and such undisputed wealth.  
  
But as these said people looked over at the sudden activity of the Imperial carriages, they spotted their Tsar and his family and immediately started moving towards the doors leading inside respectfully. Many of them were in fact members of the Imperial Family, the Grand Dukes and Grand Duchesses that were the sisters, brothers, cousins, aunties and uncles of the Tsar, but they served only at the pleasure of the Russian Emperor himself. A snap of his finger and they stepped aside. No one was higher than the Emperor; he was second only to God.  
  
When an arm snaked its way into hers, Buffy looked down into Marie's glowing face. Like her sister, the girl was flushed pink from the freezing weather, but the brilliant smile on her face drew you like a magnet. Feeling instantly reassured, the Slayer gave her arm a thankful squeeze, and she let the Grand Duchess guide her as they ascended the stairs of the Winter Palace. Nicholas and Alexandra were walking at the head of the group save for Alexei who was ahead of his parents, looking at the people around him in fascination. Marie and Buffy were next in line, then Anastasia, Olga and Tatiana, the younger girl walking between her two big sisters.  
  
Along the many corridors they walked, Buffy looking around at the large palm trees that framed the huge mirrors that lined the walls allowing people to pear in as they walked by, either to examine or admire themselves. At intervals along the corridors, white uniformed Cossack soldiers with silver breastplates and eagle-crested helmets stood rigidly at attention, their feet snapping together as Nicholas walked past them, the Tsar often tipping his head in acknowledgment at their respect. Falling from the ceilings like a flock of white doves, were the crystal and gold chandeliers that lighted the immense palace.  
  
As they neared the great mahogany doors dripping gold that led into the Grand Ball Room, the sound of three thousand people's voices flooded Buffy's senses and she seriously thought she was going to be sick. Marie looked at her in alarm as her arms started shaking. "Are you alright?" she asked, slowing down a bit. This caused the other three girls to catch up to them, and they all looked at Buffy in worry.  
  
Correctly guessing what the matter was, Tatiana took the Slayer's hands in hers and rubbed them together, while at the same time talking to her in a soothing tone. "Just stick close to us, alright?" she told her gently. "They wont bother you if you are with one of us." She shrugged gracefully and gave Buffy an apologetic smile, explaining in her calming, musical voice.  
  
"Everyone is going to be very curious about you, as I'm sure you already realise, but if you ever don't wish to talk to anyone just simply stand up and walk away. Do you understand? As our guest, you are under my father's protection, and you answer to no man here except him…. just like us."  
  
Nodding, the Slayer mentally curses herself. What was the matter with her? A week of not patrolling and training with Giles and she had been reduced to a simpering child? Hell no. It was then that she decided she wouldn't be taking any crap from the people inside those doors. She was stronger than all of them put together, and made seen much worse if her short lifetime.  
  
Taking a deep breath of air, Buffy gave Tatiana a warm smile of thanks and straightened her chin firmly. Seeing the change come over here, the girls breathed identical sighs of relief and hurried to catch up wit their parents and little brother, who were waiting for them in front of the still closed doors. Just as they reached them, an old man quickly walked up to the little group, and Buffy noticed he held an ebony staff, embossed in gold with the double-headed eagle of the Tsar in his hands.  
  
As he neared them, they all parted and he walked forward, grasped the doorknobs and with a great heave, pushed them open. A great hush swept the humongous room as the three thousand people inside all turned in their direction. The tapping of his boots was the only thing that could be heard as the little old man walked in further and tapped loudly three times on the floor with his ebony staff. And with a booming voice that was surprising for a man his age, he cried out,  
  
"Their Imperial Majesties."  
  
And with that, the sound of thousands of silk and satin dresses rustled as the ladies of the room sank into a deep curtsy. Taking his wife's arm in his own, Nicholas II stood forward purposes into the room, Alix forever at his side. Their five children plus one all walked in behind them.  
  
When they were all in the room, the doors were once again pushed closed with a loud bang and the Imperial ball officially began.  
  
The orchestra at the other end of the room suddenly exploded into life as they broke out into a quadrille. Normally, ladies would have straightened off the ground and instantly found a partner, for which there would have been many willing, but tonight they didn't. They simply straightened abruptly and stared, open mouthed, at the Imperial Party as they made their way further into the room.  
  
Or more precisely, the beautiful blonde girl in the gorgeous blue gown on the arm of the Grand Duchess Marie Nicholaievna. Feeling a bit overwhelmed, Buffy looked into Nicholas face and was delighted to find the smallest hint of a smug smile playing on his lips. The Slayer bet he just loved getting one back at the people of St Petersburg. It wasn't often that he got to surprise them, so she guessed he was milking it for all it was worth.  
  
The Emperor and Empress had stopped to chat with a man who Buffy guessed was some sort of court official for he wore a black, gold laced uniform. The handsome man was talking quietly to the Tsar, but every now and then he was cast a curious glance at Buffy, and the Slayer knew he was probably searching his memory for a name to place on her.  
  
Looking around, she was just in time to see Olga and Tatiana being sweep away by two handsome young men. Marie giggled at her side, and Buffy looked at her in question. The girl was still staring after her elder sisters as she whispered to Buffy, "They are our cousins, Fedor and Andrei." She winked at the Slayer. "You will meet them later, I suppose. They are my Aunt Xenia's sons, well two of them. She has six."  
  
Buffy coughed. "Excuse me? Did you just say she had six sons?"  
  
Marie nodded and grimaced. "They are the oldest, save for their sister Irina. The poor girl, she is the same age as you and Olga, but imagine having six younger brothers!"  
  
Grinning, she nudged Mashka in the ribs lightly. "Huh. Imagine having for older sisters, that's gotta be worse." She was referring to, of course, Alexei. Marie screwed up her pretty face at the Slayer and whacked her on the arm, causing Buffy to laugh. The two girls stood there for a moment, just content to watch the dancing that was going on around them until Anastasia casually walked up beside them. The two friends looked across at the young girl as she approached, and for the first time Buffy wondered where she had been. She had not seen the girl since entering the room.  
  
Anastasia had an odd expression on her face as she came up to them. It was a mixture of her usual playfulness and a secret that she was just dying to get out. Marie frowned, staring at her.  
  
"Whatever is the matter with you?" she asked. Anastasia came to an abrupt stop and put her hands behind her bank, bouncing on the soles of her slippers.  
  
"I've got the best news, Mashka." The 14 year-old whispered, her eyes huge with excitement. Raising her eyebrows in surprise, Marie asked, "What?"  
  
Anastasia looked around her suddenly, as if she expected someone to jump out and grab her. "I promised him I wouldn't tell you." She whined, probably wishing she had made no such promise now.  
  
Marie sighed. "Ana, you can do that, it's not fair. If you weren't going to tell us, then why say anything?"  
  
But whatever reply the girl was going to make was cut off as a voice suddenly whispered dramatically from between Buffy and Marie, "Because she knew I would tickle her to death if she did!"  
  
Marie gasped and spun around, staring at the man standing behind her in delight. The handsome dark featured man was, in turn, practically beaming. "Uncle Misha!" Marie cried, and she launched herself into her uncle's arms. Michael laughed happily and gave her a big hug in return. Setting his niece down, he held her outwards by the shoulders and pretended to examine her critically.  
  
"Yes, my darling Mashka. You have indeed gotta far to beautiful for your own good." Nicholas' younger brother looked up, his kind eyes dancing. "Next you will be swept away from us like those sisters of yours! Bluh! Little social butterflies, the pair of them." He winked at the grinning Anastasia.  
  
"Soon it will just be you and I, Nastasia! Whatever shall we do with ourselves?"  
  
Buffy was staring at this man like he was mad. Never had she met anyone so childlike and playful since she was here, was not an adult anyway. But when he turned his gaze on her she found herself unable not to smile at him, he had an infectiously joyful face. Grinning, he bowed deeply in her direction; a gesture that brought many curious looks in their direction, for everyone near them had watched the exchange between Michael and Marie.  
  
"And this must be the wonderful American everyone is talking about." Misha said, looking the Slayer up and down. Reaching for her hand, he brought it up to his lips and gave her a kiss, never breaking eye contact with her. Knowing he expected her to blush and look away, Buffy stubbornly held his gaze, her eyebrows raised charmingly. He looked surprised, and grinned secretly to himself.  
  
"It really is a pleasure, my dear." He whispered. But when Marie shook his arm, trying to get his attention, he rolled his eyes playfully. "We will talk later."  
  
Buffy nodded, watching Marie as she girl launched into a spray of questions. "How is Natalya? And Georgie? He must be so big now! How old is he? Five?"  
  
Michael held up his hands. "Marie, slow down." He told her, laughing. "Natalya is fine, thank you. She is actually around her somewhere, if you want to have a look. And Georgie's almost fine, although at the moment he is at home, crying for all he is worth, because we told him he couldn't come and see Alexei. Actually, the only was we could get out of the house alive was by telling him we would come to Tsarskoe Selo in the next few days."  
  
Mashka nodded, smiling happily. "That would be wonderful."  
  
Michael chuckled and looking around. Spotting his brother and sister-in-law not to far away, Misha muttered. "Ahh, there they are." Turning to the girls, he bowed again, snapping his feet properly with his hand behind his back. "I shall return!" he told them, and with that, he was off through the crowds of dancing people.  
  
Buffy followed his retreating back before turning to the still smiling Marie. "He seems like a handful." She told the Duchess and the girl laughed.  
  
"Oh, he is. But he really is the nicest man." Looking around then to make sure no one could hear them, she leaned over and whispered to Buffy, "Misha and Papa had a huge fight a few years ago, because he married Natalya and had Georgie." She shrugged. "We only see him now because of the war, papa needed Uncle Misha back here to run a branch of the Army."  
  
Buffy frowned. "Why would they fight about that?"  
  
Marie sighed. "It's a long story, trust me. But basically, when Uncle Misha and Natalya met and fell in love, she was married to someone else. They got divorced, of course, but papa didn't want them to marry because it would bring shame to the family. But they went abroad and did it anyway." She shuddered at the memory. "Papa was furious. He refused to talk to either of them. So we didn't see Georgie a lot when he was a baby, but now that they are back in St Petersburg they come to Tsarskoe Selo all the time."  
  
Buffy nodded, thinking it over. Marie looked across the room suddenly and tapped the Slayer on the arm. "Would you like something to drink?" she asked, and Buffy smiled at her in thanks. "Wait here, alright?" Mashka told her, and with that she walked off, leaving Buffy with Anastasia, who she had all but forgotten was there.  
  
Looking down at the shorter girl, Buffy grinned at the look on her face. "Are you bored, hun?"  
  
Anastasia nodded and folded her arms across her chest. "Why can't I dance like that?" she asked, pouting. Following her gaze, Buffy saw Olga and Tatiana being swept around the room in the arms of their cousins. Chuckling, Buffy put an arm around the younger girl's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Don't worry, kiddo. In a few years they will be lining up to ask you to dance."  
  
As she said that she swallowed tightly. But the time Anastasia got anywhere near her two older sister's age, this world would have metaphorically sunk beneath the waves.  
  
"I'm sure they will be, your Majesty." A sickly sweet voice suddenly said from behind them. Muttering about people whom sneaking up behind you, Buffy put a wide smile on her face just as Anastasia did and turned around. Standing there in a brilliant uniform of a blue colour so dark it was almost black was one of the most strikingly beautiful men Buffy had ever seen. He had classical Byzantine features so strong he was stunning to look at.  
  
Buffy would have continued staring if she hadn't noticed Anastasia go instantly stiff beside her. Looking down at the girl slightly, she was started to see her little fists squeezed into balls at her sides and her mouth pressed into a thin straight line.  
  
Confused, she looked up at the beautiful man once again, and saw that he was choosing to ignore Anastasia. Instead, his whole attention was locked on her. Truthfully, Buffy was starting to get very uncomfortable herself. From so many years of slaying she was used to following her instincts and right now her instincts where telling her that this man was seriously bad news. He reminded her too much of someone, but she just couldn't put her finger on who it was.  
  
"So you are the little blonde who has the whole ball room wrapped around her little finger." He said, his voice wisping around Buffy's ears like a snake. He then bowed just as Michael had done minutes before, but Buffy noticed instantly the differences between the two men. This young man obviously hated bowing to anyone. She could tell he was proud, conceited and haughty.  
  
"Please allow me to introduce myself." He whispered, and Buffy started to breath heavily. All she wanted to do was grab Anastasia and flee. But instead she found herself unable to leave. Her feet were rooted to the floor. "My name is Felix Yussupov, and it is a pleasure to meet such a charming creature." He too, reached for her hand and gave it a long, drawn out kiss. Buffy knew people were staring at them, whispering, and she wished Marie were here. She would know how to get rid of the man without insulting him, for Buffy sure didn't. She positively felt like thumping him in the face.  
  
"Charmed." Buffy ground out, her teeth clenched. "And how are you enjoying your evening?" she asked, taking a deep breath, finally getting control of herself from the initial shock of seeing him. Putting one of her hands on the small of Anastasia's back, telling her everything was all right; she smiled demurely at him through dark lashes. Asshole, she thought. Two can play at that game.  
  
Felix shrugged his shoulders, still holding onto her hand. "It has been a pleasant evening I suppose. Although, this I must say, has been its' highlight." Again, he gave her a dark, smouldering smile. With a start, she realised just who he reminded her of.  
  
Angelus.  
  
Now she was getting mad. He had no right to treat her like this. No right to try and intimidate her in front of three thousand people. Ripping her hand out of his freezing grasp, she grabbed hold of a silent Anastasia and gave Felix a last, biting smile. "It's been fun, really." And with that, not caring if she insulted the guy or not, she briskly walked off, yanking Ana behind her.  
  
She was so mad that she didn't even notice Marie walking towards them until the banged into each other, almost spilling the contents of the crystal wine glass Marie held in her hand. She took one look at the fury on Buffy's face and she instantly gave the glass to an attendant who just happened to walk by, and quickly led her friend and younger sister through the masses of people. Buffy didn't have a clue where they were going, she didn't really care, but when she found herself climbing a vast staircase, and the sound of people's voices disappearing, she gave a thankful sigh. She hadn't realised until now just now much she wanted to get out of that room.  
  
Silently, Marie led them though what seemed an endless corridor until she came to a stop outside a large wooden door. Pushing it open, she quickly looked back the way they had came, making sure no one knew where they were going, before hustling the two other girls through the door.  
  
Looking around the silent room, Buffy found herself it was looked like someone's study. Taking hold of Ana's other hand, Marie led them across the vast floor space and pushed open the huge twin French doors on the other side. It was only then that Buffy realised they must be in one of the top floors rooms, for when she walked forward and looked over the side of the balcony they were on, she could see for miles. The whole of St Petersburg was lit up like a Christmas tree before her.  
  
"Are you alright?" she heard Marie ask her sister, and she quickly turned back to her young friends. Anastasia looked shaky. "Yes, Mashka, I'm fine." The girl looked up into Buffy's face and the Slayer was startled to see tears running down her check. From what she had heard from her family, Anastasia DID NOT cry.  
  
Marie saw them as well and bit her lip in worry. "You are not fine." She said, running a hand through Anastasia long golden- brown hair. But Ana shook her head firmly. "Yes, I am." Then she whispered, "Its just…I don't like that man."  
  
"If your talking about Felix, I have to agree." Marie said shortly, before turning to Buffy, her huge blue eyes dancing furiously. "He's a fraud. Maman adores him, and takes him under her wing. But away from her he insults her in public and criticises her to his friends. But she wont listen, and insists he is going to turn over a new leaf."  
  
"The only reason papa has any thing to do with him is that he is from one of Russia's most respected and wealthiest families." She frowned. "Us children can't stand him, even though he is married to our cousin Irina."  
  
Buffy looked at her in surprise. "The girl with six brothers?" she asked, thinking back. Yes, that was right, she told herself. The Tsar's sister Xenia's eldest child and only girl.  
  
Mashka gave a slight smile. "Yes, that's right."  
  
"Man, talk about keeping it in the family." The Slayer muttered. "Why would she want to marry someone like that? She must have known that her life wouldn't have been a very happy one." she asked louder.  
  
But Marie shrugged. "Who knows? The future is uncertain, anything can happen."  
  
"Tell me about it." Buffy muttered and the girls lulled into a comfortable silence. Then suddenly, Marie walked over to the balcony railing and rested her arms on it, looking out onto the city as they moon shone down on them in the black night sky. "Actually, that's not true." She whispered. Both Ana and Buffy looked at her in confusion.  
  
"What do you mean?" The Slayer asked quietly.  
  
Not looking anywhere but out into St Petersburg, Mashka took a deep breath. "I knew you were coming to us." She explained calmly and Buffy frowned, staring at her.  
  
Anastasia, on the other hand, gasped and covered her hand with her mouth. "Mashka!" she cried, horrified at what she had just said.  
  
"Excuse me?" Buffy asked, not understanding if she heard her right or not. But Marie only smiled. "I was dreaming about you for a week before you arrived here in Russia." Finally, she turned her head and stared deeply into the Slayer's emerald eyes. "And even though you did not explain it clearly, I know you did not choose to come here. You had no choice in the matter."  
  
Buffy was starting to shake as she stared at the girl seemingly for the first time. "How could you possibly know that?" she whispered. But Marie only smiled sadly.  
  
"I don't know. I just do." She looked down. "I think you are here by the will of a power greater than you and I." Again, she looked at the Slayer. "You are not like us, yet you are." She smiled gently. "Am I getting warm?"  
  
It was now Buffy's turn to look down. "Mashka, please. Don't ask me that." She whispered. When she felt a finger push her chin up she found herself staring into Marie's doe blue eyes, Anastasia standing behind her.  
  
"You have the right to your secrets, my friend. And as much as I would love to know them, to know what it is like where you come from, we will not ask." Buffy looked at her, and bit her lip.  
  
"Do you parents know this? Or the girls?" But both Marie and Ana shook their heads. "No. It will bring up to many questions. I just know we are meant to help you with something, although I don't know what."  
  
"No matter what, you will always have our friendship…. and always my trust." Squeezing Buffy's hand, Marie kissed her on her check. "Do you understand?"  
  
Buffy nodded, lost for words.  
  
"Good, then." Marie said briskly. "For we had better get back, they will be looking for us and we if do not appear, a whole herd of Cossacks will be coming after us."  
  
Anastasia wiped her nose with the back of her hand and sniffled. With the other one, she took hold of Buffy's and together, the three friends walked out of the room, and back down into the lion's den.  
  
****  
  
The room was as it was when they left. Laughing men and woman were dancing the night away in the best way they knew how. As the three girls entered, Buffy caught sight of Michael talking to a tall woman with her back to the Slayer. But when the Tsar's brother raised a hand and waved a greeting, the woman turned around to see whom he was waving to and gave a gasp as she recognised the Slayer.  
  
It was Olga Alexandrovna. And she looked beautiful in a cream gown and red rubes encrusted all over her bodice. As she hurried over to the Slayer, curious people followed her with their eyes across the floor and they were stunned when she wrapped the Slayer in a warm hug as they met. Kissing Buffy three times on her forehead and both checks, she then turned to her nieces and hugged them as her brother Michael and another man followed her over. Smiling at Michael, the Slayer turned to the other man and frowned, not recognising him.  
  
But Olga then gave a laugh and wrapped her arm through the tall, distinguished looking gentlemen beside her. The first thing that Buffy noticed about him is that he seemed incredibly kind. Even his eyes seemed to be smiling.  
  
"Buffy, dearest, I'd like you to meet my husband, Nicholai. Nicholai, this is Elizabeth…well, Buffy we call her." And for the third time that night, Buffy had her hand kissed by a complete stranger. She smiled up at him, liking the man instantly and had just opened her mouth to greet him herself when she caught sight of something over Nicholai's shoulder.  
  
It was like someone had punched her in the stomach. She truthfully felt her heart stop as the smile slowly dropped off her face and was replaced with a look of complete and utter shock. She barely heard Olga ask her is she was all right, then the others, but she didn't answer them, only slowly walking around Michael and, as if her feet weighted 100 pounds, she slowly glided across the floor. People were staring at her, but they quickly got out of her way as she walked, as if in a daze to the last person she thought she would ever see.  
  
But now she could see him so clearly that she knew it was not a dream. He looked as if he had just walked through the door. He was dressed in a smart black and gold uniform like many of the man here, and on his arm, in a stunning silver gown, was a beautiful small woman with caramel coloured hair. Unlike the rest of the ladies, it was loose and flowing down around her shoulders in soft waves. The only jewellery that she wore was a thin strand of diamonds across her forehead, where it later got lost in the masses of hair.  
  
She knew instantly when he saw her. She was almost in front of them when his eyes suddenly fell on her, but then moved past her with no hint that he recognised her. Suddenly his whole body stiffened, and those chocolate eyes, which she adored so much, flew back towards her and they stared at each other. The woman on his arm was talking to him, but he either didn't hear her or ignored her, Buffy didn't really care which, but she stopped when she too, followed his gaze and saw her. The only reaction she had was that one single eyebrow raised charmingly.  
  
But then he was walking towards her, a massive smile breaking out on his face. When he reached her, Buffy looked up into his shining face and she honestly thought she was going to scream. But instead, she gave a cry like a child, and flew into his arms.  
  
And as she came into contact with his silky brown hair, she breathed a huge sigh and let herself go as his arms tightened around her jewel-covered waist. And it was then that she allowed herself to acknowledge that this was indeed real, and she whispered his name, the name that had been on her lips for the past five years.  
  
"Angel…." 


	6. A Fateful Decision

Kia Ora, everyone!  
  
First of all, I wanna thank all of you who have sent me reviews for this story, you are the total best! It really makes my day to find them, lol. Also, sorry it took so long to get this part out. I actually finished and posted it in two different parts on the BA_FLUFF list at yahoogroups, so if your on that or wanna join, you will get it faster anyway.  
  
Anything else to say….ahh, just remember that this is set early-mid S5. Riley is still there, although he's not in this story at all at the moment, haven't decided if I can bring myself to put him in it at all, lol. Also, Joyce is dead in this, so its set soon after that.  
  
And without further ado…  
  
**********  
  
  
  
PART Six: "A Fateful Decision"  
  
A week before,  
  
In a building somewhere in Los Angeles….  
  
His eyebrows knitted together thoughtfully, the dark haired man studied the book lying on top of the table in front of him with boredom. Bringing his hand up slowly, he idly flicked through the pages until he came to the one he thought he wanted.  
  
Bending forward as that his nose almost touched the paper; Angel frowned at the picture inches in front of his eyes. Instead of the century old carving of the demon he was looking for, the page showed nothing else but a long legged woman with a sultry pout on her lips, and far too much makeup on her face.  
  
Startled, he quickly flicked the book back to its cover and sighed in annoyance when the evil words "Cosmopolitan" jumped out in full force. Bending back on his chair so that the front legs left the ground, the vampire stuck his head out the office door and bellowed,  
  
"Cordelia! How many times have I told you not to leave your magazines lying around?"  
  
Nobody answered. Giving another sigh, Angel regretfully got off his chair and walked out of his office into the deserted room before him. Eyebrows raised, he looked around the room for any evidence as to where his workmates and friends had gotten to.  
  
He was just starting to get worried when the young woman herself ran in through the door, breathing heavily. On her heals where Gunn and Wesley.  
  
"I'm sorry, Angel." Cordelia called as she dumped her handbag on her desk and flopped ungracefully into her chair behind it. "We went out to get Chinese for dinner to surprise you but it turns out the damn shop was shut! What kind of animal closes a takeaway at dinnertime on a weekday, anyway?"  
  
Shrugging his shoulders, Gunn took off his leather jacket and put it beside Cordelia's handbag. Grabbing another chair, he straddled it and looked up at the perplexed Angel with a grin.  
  
"So, my man, what's the business for this evening?" the young man asked, inclining his head to the side.  
  
Angel and Wesley leaned up against the counter and looked back across at their two friends. But it was the vampire who answered, in an almost regretful tone. "Sorry, guys. Business has been pretty slow all day. We haven't had any calls what so ever."  
  
Cordelia snorted and picked up the rather large pile of files on her desk and busily started sorting through them. With a flick of her brown hair, she looked up at Wesley and snapped, "And whose fault is that, huh? If you hadn't left the phone off the hook ALL yesterday, we might have had something to do instead of sitting around on our butts doing nothing!"  
  
Wesley narrowed his eyes at the young woman and spat out in defence, "I would have thought you of all people would have loved to have a day off!"  
  
Looking between the two, Angel just shook his head and laughed. "Cordy, I would like the think that the reason we don't have any clients is because the demon community has decided to give us a few days off, as far fetched as that might sound. Don't go blaming it on Wesley."  
  
The brunette sniffed haughtily. "Dream on, Angel." She looked pointly at Gunn and held out a pile of sorted files. Quickly getting the idea, he took them of her hand and walked over the filing cabinet. "They are more likely fishing up something nasty to throw at us next time!"  
  
And it was at that exact moment that the phone rang.  
  
Wesley groaned and Cordelia flashed Angel a 'told you so' look. Reaching over her desk, she picked up the phone and answered in a polite voice,  
  
"Angel Investigations, we help the..…Dawn!"  
  
Angel snapped his head up at that single word. He had pushed himself off the counter and was standing before Cordy's desk before he knew he had even moved. On the other side of the room, Gunn stopped filing in mid movement and looked over at them, confusion evident on his dark face. The tension in the room had just effectively tripled as Angel waited, staring at Cordelia's face for any sign of dread.  
  
But the young woman was seemingly obvious to the freaked out vampire standing inches from her as she picked up the portable phone and started to walk around the room, chatting to the girl on the other end. Angel and Wesley followed behind her.  
  
"It's so good to hear from you, Dawnie! It's been ages! How are you? How's school? Are the boys lining up for you yet like I told you they would be?"  
  
Abruptly she stopped, her back to the others, and listened intently into the phone. "What's wrong, kiddo? Why are you crying?" Then suddenly she looked terrified. Large brown eyes opened wide in alarm as she spun around, looking into Angel's eyes in horror.  
  
"Is it one of the others? What's happened?" She was breathing heavily and Gunn noticed as he slowly walked over that her hands were shaking. As she listened to Dawn, the room was silent, even the wind had stopped blowing onto the windows for a moment. Angel, on the other hand, didn't notice any of this as he kept his eyes glued on his friend's face. She looked downright scared at what the girl on the other end of the phone was telling her.  
  
"Alright, Dawnie, I need you to calm down, can you do that for me?" Cordelia spoke in a low, soothing tone, with was broken by the way her voice was quivering. Looking up into her friend's faces, the brunette just shrugged and mouthed the words 'I don't know'. She listened for a moment longer then suddenly frowned. "What do you mean, disappeared?" she asked the hysterical Dawn.  
  
Angel and Wesley shared a worried look, wondering what that could mean. But what they didn't have to wonder about was that something serious had happened in the seemingly sleepy town of Sunnydale. This was the call that Angel had always dreaded the most. He knew better than anyone just how proud the Sunnydale gang was, and how they hated asking for help. Usually, they didn't have to and managed to get out of the trouble themselves. But when they finally did admit they needed whatever information they did, it had always been Giles ringing up Angel or Wesley for help, none of the others would dare.  
  
Pacing around the room, the phone attached firmly to her ear, Cordelia was still trying to sooth Dawn long enough to get some useful information out of her. "Honey, I don't understand you. What do you mean she disappeared?"  
  
Angel closed his eyes in dread and let out a soft moan as he flopped down in the nearest chair. Letting his head fall into his hands he whispered loud enough for Wesley and Gunn to hear, "Oh, god."  
  
This was it. The phone call that was about to destroy him. It was Buffy, it had to be. Why else would Dawn of all people be calling? Something had happened to his Slayer, something serious enough for them to call LA.  
  
Gunn frowned, wondering what they hell was going on. He had never heard of a client called Dawn before, let alone one to get the rest of his team so frightened. Wesley and Cordelia looked serious spooked, and Angel…. well, the big man looked like he was going to combust any second.  
  
Looking back at Cordelia, he was just in time to see her frown and hold the phone out from her ear in confusion before putting it back again. Surprise flew over her face as she obviously heard a new voice. "Willow?" she said, as if it was the last person she thought would be on the line.  
  
"What the hell is going on? What's wrong with Dawn? She sounds…" Then suddenly she broke off. Understanding filled her eyes as she quickly spoke into the phone, "Angel? Yeah sure, he's right here."  
  
Knowing that this was serious, the former May Queen ignored the sense of annoyance and hurt that Willow would instantly take over and demand to talk to the vampire and quickly walked over to the fallen man, holding the phone out for him to take.  
  
Angel knew they were all looking at him as he slowly raised his head out of his hands and stared at the piece of machinery that he knew was about to bring him seriously bad news. He didn't want to take it, it was positively the last thing he wanted to do, but knowing he had to, the vampire slowly held his hand out and let Cordelia drop the phone into it.  
  
Bringing it to his ear, the vampire rose and walked across the room, his back to the others. Taking a deep breath, he spoke gently,  
  
"Willow?"  
  
****  
  
Half an hour later, Angel effortlessly chucked the large satchel into the back seat of his car, slamming the door shut as he went. Cordelia, who had been standing behind the vampire, gave a jump of fright. She was worried about him, they all were. What ever had gone down between Angel and Willow not that long ago, it was affecting the vampire terribly. He had given them the basics, that Buffy had suddenly disappeared into thin air and they were needed in Sunnydale to help look for her, but Cordelia didn't know how much of this Angel could handle.  
  
They were standing outside the office building, Angel's car pulled up on the side of the curb. Wesley and Gunn were still inside, going over some last minute business before they shut shop for a few days.  
  
Taking a hesitant step forward, Cordy laid a reassuring hand on the vampire's shoulder and asked in a gentle tone, "Are you sure about this?"  
  
His back to her, Angel gave a huge sigh that shook his whole body. His head was drooped towards his chest as he reached out and rested his hands on the roof of the car. "I have to, Cordy." He answered softly. It was then that he finally turned around, and Cordelia was pained to see that he looked terrible. Even for a vampire, he looked as if he had aged 10 years.  
  
Not for the first time, the young woman hated Buffy Summers. It was just like her to go and do something like this, even if it wasn't really her fault. But seriously, the blonde Slayer was the only person Cordelia knew who could attract some must trouble when she wasn't looking for it herself.  
  
Giving Angel a worried glance, Cordelia brought her hand up and ran it thought her hair in a nervous gesture. "I know you think you do, Angel, by seriously, you have nothing to prove to those people, or us. No one will judge you if you decide to sit this one out. Wes, Gunn and I can handle it."  
  
Touched, Angel gave her one of his special smiles and gave her hand a quick squeeze as they waited outside, under the moon, for the others to hurry up. "And what exactly would you be handling?" He asked in a faint teasing tone.  
  
Thinking about that, Cordy screwed up her face. "Okay, so we don't really know what the hell's going on, but *I* at least, lived the Sunnydale life for three years under Giles and Co. I'm pretty sure we will have miss Slayer back in a few hours." Cordelia was proud of herself at how confident she sounded, especially since that's just how far it ran. Truthfully, she didn't have a clue how to fix the Buffy problem; she didn't even think Angel or Wesley did.  
  
But, sadly, the people in Sunnydale were still their friends, and they owed it to them to come and help, even if they were there just for moral support.  
  
Sighing, Cordelia leaned back against the car next to the vampire and tilted her head backwards, studying the stars to pass the time. Angel was silent beside her, for which Cordelia was glad. She guessed that he was battling his own personal demons.  
  
But when she couldn't take the silence a second longer, Cordelia lowered her head and whispered faintly, "What do you think happened to her?"  
  
Angel didn't answer for a moment, and Cordelia seriously thought he hadn't heard her. She had just opened her mouth to repeat the question, when the vampire spoke. "Truthfully? I wouldn't have the faintest idea."  
  
Cordelia let out a breath of air loudly. "Damn." She told him. "I was hoping you wouldn't say that."  
  
Angel chuckled and Cordy gave a slight smile, glad that she could lift the vampire's spirits for a moment. Hearing the sound of a door slamming, the young woman watched Wesley and Gunn approach the car. Like them, they both had over-night bags in their hands; although Cordelia was sure Wesley's was full over anything BUT clothes. Her suspicions were confirmed as he handed her the bag to throw on the back seat. She could barely hold it up.  
  
Giving her British friend an irritated glance, Cordy abruptly let it fall from her hands onto the pavement. "What the hell do you have in there? Bricks?" she demanded, ignoring the others and getting in the front passenger seat. She heard Gunn snicker behind her as he effortlessly picked up the bag and chuck it in the back seat, following it in a second later.  
  
Obviously miffed, Wesley rolled his eyes. He wasn't putting up with any of Cordy's insults tonight. "Books, if you must know." Looking in the revision mirror, Cordelia caught the pointed look he threw her way. "How else do you expect us to find out what happened? Honestly, Cordelia, you lived in Sunnydale long enough to know how these things work, you should know better."  
  
Ignoring him, she watched Angel start up the car before turning around in her seat and informing Gunn in a dramatic, mock whisper, "Wait until you meet Giles, he's even worse!"  
  
As Angel pulled away from the pavement and they got on their way, Wesley snarled at Cordelia, "I'll have you know, young woman, that both Giles and myself are positively American compared to most Watchers back home!"  
  
Gunn's eyes lit up at the mention of the Watcher and he leaned in closer to the brunette. "I can't wait to met these guys. I mean, you don't talk about them often, but from what I have heard, they're hardly boring to be around."  
  
Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Trust me, Gunn. You are more likely to wind up in a coffin by visiting Sunnydale than any other place in the country. You've seriously picked a bad time to want to go visiting."  
  
Gunn just shrugged her warning off, and grinned at the back of Angel's head. "I sure hope we get your Slayer back soon, Angel, I'm just *dying* to met her."  
  
Angel sighed. "She's not my Slayer…not anymore." Even to his ears, the remark sounded weak. That's why he wasn't surprised when he heard Cordelia snort and Wesley give a disagreeing huff. Looking in the revision mirror, he saw Gunn frown in confusion to their answers.  
  
"What was all that suppose to mean?" Looking around at all their faces, he knew he was missing half the plot. Reaching over, Cordelia patted his shoulder obnoxiously.  
  
"Poor little man." She crooned and he shrugged her off, grinning widely. "You have such a lot to learn."  
  
Shaking his head, Gunn wondered what the hell they were going on about. "Whatever, man." He told Angel. "Lets just hurry up and get there, so you guys can mesh your brain power with your girl's friends." He grinned as Angel frowned at him in the mirror. "The sooner we get the chick back, the sooner I can settle my curiosity."  
  
As they wove their way through the streets of Los Angeles, Wesley coughed, getting Gunn's attention. Glancing apologetically at the vampire behind the wheel, the Briton grimaced, his eyes flicking back and forth between the open book he now held on his lap and friends who were all looking at him expectedly.  
  
"Don't get your hopes up so soon, young man." He told Gunn. "We have no idea what has happened to Buffy, there could be many reasons for her disappearance. Now, from what Miss Rosenberg told us over the phone, I can tell you that it is almost certainly magically caused."  
  
At the uncertain tone of his voice, Gunn frowned deeply and even Cordelia turned around again, ignoring the stern glance Angel sent her way for her improper use of a seatbelt. "What are you saying, Wes?" Cordy asked, wondering not for the first time if this was more serious than they all thought.  
  
Sighing in regret, Wesley nervously flicked through the pages in his book. "I'm just saying that getting Buffy back might not be as easy as you all seem to think it will be."  
  
And none of them knew just how right Wesley were going to be…  
  
****  
  
A few hours later, Angel's car drew up to a stop outside the group of shops that Willow had directed them to. Inside the car it was silent as the four friends from LA all peered across at the darkened building. Even at this late hour, the lights in the Magic Shop were blazing furiously and everyone knew they wouldn't be getting much sleep tonight. Slowly, Cordelia opened her door and stood on the pavement, stretching her arms above her head as she groaned tiredly. Quietly, Gunn and Wesley did the same, the younger man staring at the building critically.  
  
Gunn knew that inside that normal, everyday shop was some of the best vampire-slash-demon hunters in the business. They had been doing this way longer than he had, and that thought couldn't help but bring respect.  
  
Turning around, they all waited for Angel to step out, but he didn't. Wincing in sympathy, Cordelia walked around the car and squatted down outside Angel's open window. The vampire just sat there, his hands gripping the steering wheel in front of him, eyes forward. Cordelia put a gentle hand on Angel's tense arm and gave it a faint squeeze.  
  
"Come on, Angel, don't do this now." She whispered so that the others couldn't hear. Not that they were actually listening, the tactful Wesley was trying to distract Gunn by quietly informing him about the people who were in the Magic Shop. Gunn however, wasn't really listening; he kept shooting curious glances at Angel and Cordelia.  
  
"We need you to be strong, Angel, or we're not gonna get anywhere." Biting her lip, Cordy decided to try a different tactic. "Buffy needs you to be strong. You know as well as I do that we need your help getting her back, and she wouldn't want you moping out here. Think about how hard she worked to save you when Faith shot you, huh? Don't you think its time you repaid her for that?"  
  
Angel looked down and swallowed thickly. Slowly, he turned his head and stared hard at Giles' shop, Cordelia knew an internal struggle was going on inside him. "Think about Dawn, she deserves to get her big sister back." She smiled softly, even though the vampire wasn't looking at her. "We can get Buffy back for her, but we need your help."  
  
After what seemed like hours, Angel turned away from the shop and stared at his friend outside his open window. Slowly, he looked down at her hand on his arm and squeezed his eyes shut. No matter what happened in the rest of his long life, he would always be grateful of the few close friendships he had. And Cordelia, however unlikely it seemed to be, was at the top of that list.  
  
It was just that if he got out if this car now he was opening a whole can of worms that he had regretfully shut years ago. Buffy might as well have been up in that house, her scent was so strong. He could feel her everywhere around her Watcher's abode, even out here on the road. She was everywhere; in the Magic Shop, in her friends and little sister... if he went in there now he was admitting to himself that she was really gone.  
  
It was the thought of Dawn that made him snap out of it. Remembering how terrified she had sounded on the phone earlier that evening when she had talked to Cordelia, however briefly, made him realise that he did owe it to not only Buffy but to what family she had left.  
  
Giving Cordelia a slight smile in thanks, Angel waited for her to straighten and take a step back, allowing the vampire to open the door. Stepping out, he barely noticed himself shutting it quietly as he and Cordelia walked around the car and met up with Wesley and Gunn, both who were obviously avoiding his gaze.  
  
And together, they all walked across the footpath towards the front door. Taking a deep breath, Wesley knocked…. and waited.  
  
****  
  
It seemed like they stood out there for hours before the sound of footsteps were heard and the door was finally opened, the wood protesting faintly. Looking up, Angel found himself confronted by a very pretty young woman in a brightly coloured dress. Confused, he glanced at Cordelia and Wesley, and was relieved to see they held the same expression.  
  
"Anya?" Cordelia asked incredulously, startled to see the young woman she met briefly in High School there. She had known that she was staying in Sunnydale, but not that she was on such close terms with the scoobies.  
  
Anya ignored her. Her eyes were glued on Angel. Looking him up and down confidently, the woman drew her eyes to Angel's wary face and smiled brightly. "You must be Buffy's vampire! We've been waiting for you to get here for ages! Willow thought you might have gotten into some trouble on the way, but I bet her $10 that your driving is just as bad as Giles." Not waiting for them to answer, she stepped out of the doorway and motioned them in.  
  
When it came to Angel to step over the threshold, Anya stepped deftly in front of him, blocking his access. Narrowing her eyes, she told the baffled vampire firmly, "Now you might be as cute as a button, but I have heard many a sad story from Xander about you, and I'll tell you right now…I don't want any funny business from you inside this shop. I happen to work here, and unless you want to pay for any damages, I suggest you keep your hands to yourself. Once you get Buffy back, you and her are to stay away from the sex, am I making myself clear?" Amazingly, her face changed into one of sympathy.  
  
"It must be very hard for you, I don't know what I would do if I have to refrain from Orgasm with the person I love…. it must be terrible!"  
  
Godsmacked, Angel could do nothing but stare at the woman. He only snapped out of it when he noticed Xander quickly move to Anya's side and…non to gently…grip her by the shoulders, making to move her away. Looking up at the vampire's stunned face, Xander nervously patted his arm and pushed Anya behind him.  
  
"Sorry, man, she didn't mean it."  
  
The young woman looked indignant and frowned. "Yes I did!"  
  
Acting like he didn't hear her, Xander put a hand over her mouth, still looking at Angel. "Dead Boy met Anya." He flashed the vampire a wide grin. "Trust me, you'll learn to love her!"  
  
Not really sure if he agreed or not, Angel looked warily at Anya again, not for the first time wondering what was so wrong with Xander that he attracted such strange people. But the vampire had to agree that she looked harmless enough, a bit chirpy for his liking, but who was he to complain?  
  
"Ahh, its nice to met you." Angel said politely, and Anya beamed back at him. Feeling the air change behind him, he turned his head ever so slightly at wasn't surprised in the least to see Cordelia standing inches from him, staring at Anya with narrowed eyes. It seemed that Angel and Xander noticed this at the same time and both men took a quick step back, successfully separating the two.  
  
Cordelia gave the vampire a disgusted glance. "What? For god's sake, Angel, what did you think I was going to do to her? Slit her throat?" Before any of them could answer, she rolled her eyes, looked at Anya and carried on. "Please. I'm so over the loser, honey, you can have him!"  
  
Anya frowned, looked hard at Xander, who in turn was shooting death glances at his ex, then looked back at Cordelia. "Not that I need your consent, but thank you." Then she narrowed her eyes back at Cordelia and spat out, "Xander loves me. He wont leave me for you, so don't get any funny ideas!"  
  
Cordy's eyes flew open wide in surprise as she took a threatening step towards the ex-demon. "Like I said before, you can have him! I wouldn't go near the guy!"  
  
Both girls ignored the alarmed glance Xander sent Angel as Anya put her hands on her hips and ground out between clenched teeth, "Just see that you don't."  
  
"Ahh, guys?"  
  
The soft, hesitant voice made them both pause and turn their heads, Angel, Xander and Gunn included. Willow stood beside the table, her fingers playing across the polished wood nervously, staring back at them tiredly. Instantly Xander let go of Anya and hurried over to his best friend, gently taking her arm, leading her over to the nearest chair and helping her down. Ignoring the rest of them, Xander smiled softly down at her and brushed a stay of hair of her forehead lovingly.  
  
"What are you doing up? That spell of Tara's was meant to knock you out for at least another three hours." Angel and Wesley glanced at each other in surprise at the sound of such concern in Xander's voice.  
  
But Willow just smiled sleepily. "Don't blame Tara, Xander. I'm sure the whole of Sunnydale can hear those two, the way they were going at it." She gave Anya a pointed look before turning to Cordelia, who, looking decidedly uncomfortable, was looking everywhere but at the Witch.  
  
"Hello, Cordelia." Willow started gently and Cordy found herself unable to look away. Slowly she brought her eyes around and looked fully at her one time worst enemy and the girl she had picked on for 10 years. Biting her lip, all thoughts of Anya completely forgotten, the brunette looked the Witch up and down in her own type of concern.  
  
"Hi, Will." Unable to stop herself, Cordelia took a step towards the redhead and frowned deeply. "Are you ok? You don't look to hot."  
  
Hearing her, Angel and Wesley both looked at the young woman and came to the same conclusion. Frankly, she looked exhausted. Her eyes had a permanently sleepy glaze to them and she was blinking slowly, as if dazed. From the way Xander was frowning anxiously at her, never far from her side, the vampire knew he was worried too.  
  
But Willow just gave a tinkering laugh and patted Xander's hand in reassurance. "I'm fine, guys." She told them, touched by their concern.  
  
"Actually, no your not, love." A soft voice came into the room as a new figure walked in from the back. Jerking their heads up, the LA gang found themselves looking at a pretty blonde girl wearing a long purple skirt and what looked like a Mexican Poncho.  
  
Looking back at them shyly, Tara walked over to Willow, kissed the top of her head affectionately and handed her the flask that she was carrying in her hands. Willow screwed up her face in disgust but drank the silver liquid anyway.  
  
"She's been wearing herself out since it happened with those locator spells or whatever, but we still haven't got anywhere." Xander informed them sadly.  
  
Looking at Willow in worry, Angel cleared his throat and asked, "Ahh, are you sure you should be drinking that if you've been doing spells? You never know what's going to affect it." He didn't know what he had expected them to do with that information, but he was pretty sure laugh wasn't high on the list.  
  
But they did, or in a way. A fleeting grin appeared on Xander's face for a second before leaving, being replaced with the typical sad expression. But Willow and the other girl both smiled tolerantly up at him.  
  
"Its fine, Angel." Willow told him kindly. "Energy potions are Tara's speciality." She looked up lovingly at the tall girl beside her, who smiled back.  
  
But Angel and the others were confused. "Tara?" Wesley asked, and he remembered Cordelia saying something about Willow's girlfriend. Suddenly Willow blinked, and gave her head a shake. When she looked up again, they all noticed her eyes seemed to be a bit clearer and they breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
Willow swallowed. "Man, I really needed that." she muttered loudly to herself. Turning back to their old friends, Willow slowly stood, gripping Xander's arm in support. "I guess we should do the introductions, shall we?"  
  
The Witch linked her arm through Tara's. "This is Tara, everyone. Cordelia, you will remember her, I've told you all about Tara, I'm sure. And for you who haven't guessed all ready, that's Anya over there. Angel, you must have forgotten. She has here in our senior year. She's also our resident ex- demon." At Angel, Wesley and Gunn's confused look Will grinned slightly, but Angel noticed it didn't reach her eyes.  
  
"She was a vengeance demon for a thousand years before turning human…so I'd watch it, Cordy."  
  
Cordelia only huffed and folded her arms across her chest in a defensive gesture. "Please. I remember what she did to me in High School. By all rights, it should be you warning her!"  
  
Xander studied the dark beauty discreetly. Outwardly, she looked as if she was almost enjoying the familiar banter with her old friends. He remembered intimately how she would get when she was in fight, how her eyes would narrow ever so slightly like a deadly cat and they would flash with barely restrained fury. What had made her such a bitch in High School had seemingly now been used to an advantage. She could probably scare away a great many demons just be snarling at them.  
  
At that thought, Xander tried to smoother a grin of his own as he looked down at the petite whirlwind at his side. Anya, on the other hand, hadn't seemed to click on that this was just Cordy's way of making an introduction. To him, she looked like a wild tigress, reading to fight for her mate. A fight that might very well end in death. Trying to reassure her that he wasn't intending to leave her side, he reached down and subtly took her hand in his and gave it a warm squeeze. At the touch, the pretty brunette flashed him a look of such intensity, such unbridled passion that Xander was very well tempted to forgo the welcomes of Angel and his gang and discreetly pop out back for a few moments of unbridled passion of his own.  
  
But strangely enough, the only reaction he got from that thought was the smile slowly slipped from his lips as he remembered why they were here in the first place. With it came the now familiar clench of his already bruised heart as he thought of his missing friend. He remembered clearly the last sound he had heard from her, the cry that had been torn from her lips a mere second before she disappeared from their lives once again. It had been a cry of undeniable emotions; shock, surprise, confusion, and pain. Unmasked and uncensored pain that had been ripped from her as her body protested against the crimes being committed against it.  
  
Lifting the hand that wasn't connected with Anya, Xander ran it through his short dark hair. Looking up at the group of people in front of him, he cleared his throat to get their attention. When they all immediately broke their conversations and turned in his direction, Xander nodded, acknowledging their allowance of him to speak.  
  
Now that he had their full attention, he turned to the dark young man who he had never seen before, but sensed held a valid position with the people he worked with. Putting a kind, hopefully reassuring smile on his face, Xander held out his hand to Gunn to take and greeted him in a warm tone, "I don't know what that lot have told you, and by knowing them its probably not good, so lets just start again, shall we?"  
  
Spurred on when Gunn sent a startled glance at Angel - but seeing he wasn't going to get much help from that department - reached over and took his hand, Xander continued. "I'm Xander Harris, by the way. And that's Willow and Tara over there." He grimaced and ducked his head for a moment, before looking up with a sheepish expression. "And you've already met Anya."  
  
Touched by his friendliness, Gunn shook his hand firmly as the other's watched. They were the only two true mortals in the group and even if they didn't really realise they were doing it, they were forging an alliance that would hopefully last a lifetime. Gunn and Xander stared at each for a moment, sussing each other out as men do, while at the same time, gripping hands.  
  
As if suddenly unconscious as to what they were doing, the two young men dropped each other's hands like stones and took a step back, avoiding everyone's gaze. Angel rolled his eyes at such strange behaviour and turned back to Willow, whom he saw was watching the exchange with a odd, secretive smile on her face.  
  
They all have changed so much, the vampire mused to himself, watching the stunning young woman. Xander, Willow and Buffy had been so innocent back then, even though Buffy would venomously deny it. But now, seeing them again, just brought up how different they actually where. All of them, they had been through so much together…  
  
With that thought he frowned. Looking up, he scanned the shop seemingly for the first time. He didn't like what he saw.  
  
Looking back at Willow, he asked in confusion, "Aren't we missing a few people? Where is Giles?" If possible, his frown deepened. "And even though I might regret saying this, what about Riley? He should be here, surely?"  
  
From slightly behind him, he heard the unmistakable sound of Xander snorting and he muttered under his breath, "Where are Spike and Dawn for that matter."  
  
Angel heard the remark and twisted clearly in his seat to glower at the young man. "What did you just say?" he ground out, his hands forming fists around the back of the chair he was sitting on. Xander just looked at him in confusion, obviously not understanding what he was talking about.  
  
But Willow did and she quickly reached over and touched the vampire's shoulder lightly. Reassurance and comfort radiated into his body from her touch. "It's alright, Angel." She murmured, "Spike would never hurt Dawn. He practically worships the girl."  
  
He turned to gape at the Witch in disbelief even as he heard Cordelia gasp in surprise. They both exclaimed at the exact same time, "You actually allow him near Dawn!?"  
  
Now it was Tara's turn to frown. The gentle blonde took a step forward and said hesitantly, "I really don't think that is very fair of you. You haven't seen them together, and if you did, you wouldn't be so quick to judge Spike."  
  
Looking across at her in surprise, Angel gave a hollow laugh. "I've known Spike for over a hundred years, he isn't capable of caring for anyone like Dawn. Its just not his style."  
  
Willow gave her head a slight shake in denial. "I know what your saying, Angel, and quite frankly we all had issues about Spike at first to." She shrugged. "Still do actually. But he wouldn't let anything happen to Dawn, we can trust him on that." She inclined her head to the side and gave him a truthful smile. "Buffy trusted him completely when it came to Dawn, Angel. She knew she would be safe with him."  
  
Angel looked aghast as he stared at Willow, seemingly trying to see if what she said was true. "What was she thinking?" he muttered to himself, running his hand through his hair, exasperated. "She should know better than to trust her sister with Spike, of all vampires. He's not exactly stable. What would Dawn do if he suddenly turned the tables, huh? She wouldn't be able to defend herself!"  
  
Willow looked down, trying to smoother her grin even as Xander and Tara smiled slightly.  
  
Cordelia, Wesley and Gunn looked at them each in turn, wondering what was so funny. Cordelia put her hands on her hips and frowned. "Are we missing something here?"  
  
It was unsurprisingly Anya who answered their question. "He can hurt anyone now, poor little thing." she spoke up clearly. "He's as good as gone, can't hurt a fly!"  
  
Angel looked even more confused. He looked at Anya, brows married darkly. "What is that suppose to mean?" he asked incredulously.  
  
It was Willow who answered. She stood up briskly, surprising everyone in the process, and walked around towards Giles' counter. With everyone's gaze on her, she opened one of the compartments and dug around for whatever it was she was looking for. Without even looking up, she spoke to the group at large, "What it means is that Spike is harmless, Angel. He can help us, and most of the time he does."  
  
Finally she looked up. "And what you have to know and understand is that Buffy trusted him with Dawn, therefore so are we. Standing here like dummies isn't going to make Buffy come back any quicker, so I suggest we get down to business. As to answer you earlier question, Giles is asking around places in town; Willy's bar etc, that might have information as to what happened to her. And Riley…" she frowned. "I'm not quite sure where he is, work probably."  
  
Withdrawing her hand, the young Witch smacked an old, dusty book on the counter so loudly that everyone jumped with the noise. With everyone looking at her, Willow stood firmly in her place, hands gripping the book in front of her. "We have to find her, you guys, and we have to do it fast. The vampire population is gonna click on sooner or later that something has happened to her, and I'd really like to either have her back, or be getting her back, when they do."  
  
Now that her speech had come to an end, the room fell into silence, everyone staring at Willow, stunned at her words. Xander, Angel and Cordelia were the first to look away, for they more than the others knew just how hard this all was on the young redhead. She and Buffy had been best friends for a very long time now, and they had seen and done things together that made their friendship even stronger than normal. To Willow, losing the Slayer now was unacceptable.  
  
Gunn was staring at her in a mixture of wariness and awe. From what little he had been told about Buffy, he had known the Slayer was loved…. and loved deeply. Angel and Cordelia were proof of that. She had almost singly handedly given them meaning in their lives, a fact that Cordelia would deny to her dying day. But to see them here, ready to storm heaven or hell…or any place in between…to find her, was simply awe-inspiring. More than ever Gunn hoped to the heavens that he would have a chance to form opinions of his own about the tiny, legendary Slayer that had seemingly taken on the entire world.  
  
Knowing that the silence had to be broken, Angel slowly got to his feet gracefully and folded his arms across his chest. The vampire gave the powerful group around him a quick once over before directing his gaze back to Willow. As if she knew he was looking at her, the young woman met his gaze firmly, and two of the most important people in the Slayer's life fought in an unconscious battle of wills.  
  
Finally Angel sighed and put an arm around Willow's thin, delicate shoulders, relaxing slightly when she leaned into him in an old age gesture of deep friendship.  
  
"Well, we might as well get out of here." The vampire spoke quietly, breaking the spell that had fallen over the forlorn group of people. They now all looked up at him quickly. "Xander, Willow; do you guys think Dawn will mind of we crash at the Summer's house tonight?" The vampire had the grace to look sheepish as he scratched his head. "We didn't really organise any sleeping arrangements before we left."  
  
Catching on quickly, Willow nodded her head eagerly. "Of course she won't mind, Angel. She will love to see you." A dark shadow fell over her features. "Although, I wish it was under different circumstances."  
  
"Don't we all." Xander muttered as he pushed himself away from the bookshelf he and Anya had been leaning against and headed out the back of the shop. Everyone followed his example and the Sunnydale gang started getting everything they needed before shutting up shop. Wesley and Gunn were roped into carrying out boxes of books that Willow and Tara obviously thought would be helpful to use. From the expressions of the two men's faces, the books were heavy reading, even by their standards.  
  
At last, the small group headed towards the door, their arms filled with material that they were taking to the Summers' residence. Cordelia, Wesley and Gunn chucked the boxes in the back seat along with their bags that were still in there, and climbed back into the car.  
  
Angel stood in the doorway, holding it open for the others as they came out. Willow and Anya were doing a quick once over, turning off lights etc, and were just about to walk out the door when Anya suddenly paused and turned back around, as if she suddenly remembered something. She was frowning, deep in thought, when she murmured to Angel in an uncharacteristic quiet tone,  
  
"I'll be right back." before briskly jogging back into the shop. The vampire protectively watched her disappear into the back room only for a second before she remerged, an old, black covered book under her arm. As she passed him in the doorway, she flashed him a wide smile.  
  
"This baby might come in handy." was all the explanation she was clearly about to give, but the vampire didn't push her. He had long ago given up trying to understand Xander's girlfriends, past or present.  
  
But then Willow was locking the door under the watchful eye of Anya who from what Angel understood would rather die than see anything happen to her beloved shop. And as they all stood there out in the cold street, piling into their respective cars, they all knew that they had a long night ahead of them, and when they finally got to the Summer's house, they could all get down to work…. and hopefully bring their missing Slayer back…alive.  
  
****  
  
Angel knew that as long as he lived he would never forget the sight that greeted him when he walked through into the Summer's lounge. In his arms was a large box that Tara had thrust his way with a hesitant smile on her lips, and as he walked through the foyer, all he was looking for was somewhere to dump it.  
  
He came to an abrupt stop in the doorway to the lounge, staring in complete shock at the scene in front of him, wondering not for the first time if he had suddenly been thrust into some alternate universe without being told.  
  
The television set was blaring harshly into the brightly lit room, and Angel noticed that the heaters were all on, making the room nice and toasty warm. Not that the occupants would notice, they were both to absorb in what was on TV to even notice Angel standing there, staring at them, stunned. The blonde vampire sat comfortably on the sofa, as if he owned it, leaning back with one strong, muscled arm thrown across the back. His other hand was threading its way unconsciously through the long, silky, dark hair of the other occupant of the room. She sat on the floor next to Spike's legs, leaning up against the sofa, her head leaning against the vampire's knee in a gesture of complete companionship.  
  
Angel watched, unable to tear his gaze away, as Spike continued to play with Dawn's hair, as if he wasn't even conscious he was doing it. She didn't seem to mind, not in the slightest. Angel lowered his gaze to her face, studying her graceful, pixie like features intently.  
  
All he could come up with was that she looked content. She didn't look happy, but he hadn't expected her to. She had had a rough last few days, and the dark haired vampire noticed that she looked exhausted. Angel would bet that she hadn't had much sleep. But still, staring at the pretty girl who he had known since she was very young, Angel couldn't believe how much she had changed, how much he had missed out on.  
  
When he had left, she had still been the awkward, long-limbed little girl whom he remembered taking out for the evening to get her out of Buffy's hair. They had gone anywhere that had settled their fancy. Sometimes it was to the park, where they would sit under a tree to protect Angel from the last rays of the afternoon sunshine, talking comfortably about anything and everything under the sun. Dawn confined in him easily, not as her sister's mysterious boyfriend, but as a friend of her own. She told him all about her problems with her elder sister, how unfair the world seemed to her, how she wished Buffy's friends would stop treating her like a baby, reasons why she thought Giles hated her.  
  
And Angel had listened to her fully. Somewhere deep within him had been delighted and at the same time humbled to be able to get this unbiased insight of the lives of the humans around him. Dawn didn't miss anything out, it was if she didn't remember who he was, *what* he was. And through her, he had been able to settle his curiosity about the lives of Buffy and her friends in the day light hours where he was unable to join them.  
  
Buffy had understood this, in her own way, and never tried to stop the outings between the vampire and the young girl. She had known her sister could not have been safer with anyone else. Joyce, on the other hand, hadn't liked them too much. But she held her tongue, refraining for voicing what she had obviously been wanting to. Maybe it was because she saw how happy they had made Dawn, no one really knew.  
  
But as his time in Sunnydale had neared its end, the number of outings had diminished until they stopped completely. There had been too much going on; everyone was to busy with research and trying to think up ways of stopping the Mayor. Angel had had his own problems, things of his own to work out, not to mention relations between the vampire and Joyce had been strained at best in the last month or so. So his relationship with Dawn had gotten frosty at best, what with the girl being so fiercely loyal to her sister. Dawn hadn't liked what he had done to Buffy too much, and wasn't afraid to tell him so. And then Angel had left, and the farewell they had had couldn't have really been called appropriate.  
  
But now, even though Angel now know from what Buffy had told him that these outings never really took place, that Dawn wasn't all that she seemed to be, Angel still treasured the memories, even if they were fake. They would always be real to him, and he hoped Dawn felt the same.  
  
But now, staring at her, seeing just how comfortable she had become with the childe of his House, Angel didn't know what to think. In one respect he was disgusted that she had been allowed to get so close to him in the first place. He had always thought Buffy had wanted the same as he did for Dawn, for her to have a normal a life as possible considering the circumstances. And having a vampire as dangerous as Spike one of your close friends was not considered normal in Angel's books. Oh, he knew Spike wouldn't push the boundaries. Young teenage girls had never been his taste. But by the looks of things, they had a completely different relationship. One based on caring, protection…and Angel would bet, fascination on Dawn's behalf.  
  
But on the other hand, he was pleased to see how well she had adapted to the vampiric world. Not to mention that it was one of his Family who had, in his own way, sworn himself to protect her.  
  
Not wanting to be caught staring, Angel cleared his throat loudly and spoke up casually, "Hey…"  
  
The effect was immediate. Dawn's head whipped around so fast the vampire thought it was amazing that she hadn't gotten whiplash. Her big brown eyes flew open in surprise as she saw him standing there, the box still in his arms. He couldn't help the small smile that played on his lips when she noticed him, and it grew when she gave an utterly feminine squeal and jumped up from the floor.  
  
Angel quickly dropped the box just in time as Dawn launched herself into his arms, wrapping her thin arms around his neck tightly. Even though she was obviously distraught over loosing her sister, she wasn't able to conceal the small laugh of delight when she hugged him. Looking over the young girl's shoulder, Angel stared hard at Spike, waiting to see what his reaction was going to be, and at the same time, holding in the urge to poke out his tongue.  
  
But the blonde vampire surprised him. As if he had all the time in the world, he slowly peeled his eyes away from the screen and took his time meeting Angel's. They flickered over the form of Dawn in his arms, and then followed her body upwards until he finally met his grandsire squarely. What Angel saw there made him frown deeply in annoyance.  
  
Spike had known he was standing there in the doorway the entire time.  
  
Angel mouthed the word, 'bastard', over Dawn's shoulder, but Spike only shrugged and went back to the TV. Deciding the best policy was to just ignore him, the elder vampire went back to concentrating on the dark haired girl in his arms. When she withdrew from her tight embrace, she looked up into Angel's dark face and he saw nothing but relief in her eyes.  
  
"Thank god you're here, Angel." She whispered, and as if she was making sure he was indeed real, she hugged him again. He waited and gave her a reassuring smile when she looked at him for the second time. Setting her down on her feet, he reached up and cupped the side of her face gently.  
  
"How you doing, Dawnie?" he asked softly and she smiled up at him faintly.  
  
"Not to bad. I'm so glad you here." The last words came out as a sob and Angel felt his heart break for her. He gathered her small hands in his larger ones and gave them a squeeze. Seeing that she needed more, he put an arm around her shoulders and gathered her close.  
  
"Everything's going to be fine, honey. I promise." He whispered into her hair as he kissed the top of her head. Looking up, he saw the rest of the gang coming through the doorway. He heard, rather than saw, Cordelia coming into the room.  
  
"Where can I dump this stupid box? It's killing me!" Both Angel and Dawn turned at the sound of her voice. Cordelia ignored them as she pushed past into the lounge, and let the box fall onto the ground, just inches from Spike's feet. The vampire pulled his feet away just in time and sent a murderous glare in Cordy's direction as he half got up from the sofa.  
  
"Watch it, queeny!" he snarled. "You almost squashed my bloody feet!"  
  
Cordelia, who had obviously decided not to be terrified of Spike like she had been in High School, just sent him a scathing glare and snarled, "So move them, you idiot!"  
  
Spike was surprised at not only her answer, but also the fiery way she said it. But then, as if he recognise a challenge when he saw one, a sly smile slowly spread across his face. Anyone else would have shuddered and backed away, not wanting to go anywhere near him in that mood, but Cordelia either didn't see it or simply didn't care, for all she did was give another huff, flick her hair over her shoulder, and walk away form him.  
  
She did stop in front of Dawn and Angel though, and had the good graces to give the young girl a quick hug and a smile of sympathy. She hovered for a moment around the two of them, seemingly anxious about Dawn. "You hang in there, okay, kiddo?" she told the girl kindly. "We'll get Buffy back as soon as, you just wait and see."  
  
Touched, Dawn just nodded. Before walked away, Cordelia shot Angel a look which he could have read straight from the dictionary it was so clear. It said, 'See? I told you I have tact.'  
  
And then a familiar voice broke through the room, "Good god, is that Cordelia I can hear? It must be, I'd know that voice anywhere." Turning around, Angel sighed in relief when the comforting sight of Giles walked out of the kitchen. He too, looked extremely tired. His hair was messed up, and there were dark rings around his eyes. The disappearance of his Slayer had obviously taken a lot out of the Watcher. In his hand he held a large white dinner plate, which he was drying with a blue striped tea towel.  
  
Angel smiled at Giles, who in return looked very startled to see him standing in the doorway. But, getting over his surprise quickly, Giles was obviously relieved to see him. Even though they hadn't seen each other a very long time, the outwardly elder man quickly walked over and they shook hands warmly. "As I suppose Dawn has already said, Angel; it is very, very good to see you."  
  
Looking into the Watcher's eyes, Angel was gratified to see the faintest glimmer of Hope.  
  
By then anything that the two men were going to say was cut off as the rest of the group trudged tiredly into the room and all but collapsed in heaps in the chairs and sofas. Gunn and Xander didn't even make that far, they just dropped onto the floor next to the TV and made themselves comfortable. Angel would bet they didn't intend to get up any time soon. They had all had a very hard day.  
  
The greeting between Spike and his grandsire was short, and anything but sweet.  
  
"Spike."  
  
"Peaches." They spoke shortly as Angel walked past him to get his chair. They avoided eye contact like the plague.  
  
When they all got settled and Dawn had gone back to the couch next to Spike, Willow and Angel got their chairs from the dining room table and sat in front of the room so everyone could see them. They all fell silent, waiting for them to get started. Putting his hands in his lab, the dark featured vampire leaned back in his chair.  
  
"Okay. Now first of all, I want you to tell me exactly what happened, Xander. Don't leave anything out." he told the young man, who, seemingly knowing that he was going to do it, just sighed and nodded his head. With a clear, yet tired voice, Xander explained exactly how the Slayer had disappeared to the others who hadn't heard it before. The Sunnydale gang listened intently also, even though they must have heard it a million times before.  
  
"…I can't explain what happened, Angel. She just vanished. Poof!", Xander threw his hands up into the air in frustration as the others watched.  
  
Angel frowned, thinking it over. He shot Wesley a quick glance and the Briton met it squarely with a worried frown. He looked very concerned with what the young man was saying. Leaning forward, Wesley stared intently at Xander and began to ask questions of his own. "What about afterwards? Was there any smoke, for instance? Or dust?"  
  
Xander just shook his head. Then he suddenly grimaced. "Nothing like that, but she did cry out as she disappeared, though."  
  
Angel's bit back a moan as he looked down at the floor. He clenched his hands together at his side and took a few unnecessary deep breaths to get himself under control. But the thought of what Buffy had gone through, and was still going through, was only made worse if he knew she had experienced pain in the process. He wondered where she was at this moment, what she was doing. It was almost impossible to imagine her not there with them. Truthfully, he still expected her to come walking in through the door, a resigned, tired smile of her face as she saw him, and gently scold the vampire for not telling her they were coming in advance. The thought of her in some other place, possible dead or in horrific pain, almost tore his heart in two. The only comfort he had was that he knew they would get her back to Sunnydale where she belonged. The sooner the better.  
  
Trying to distract himself from what Xander was possibly hinting at, the vampire looked intently into the many faces of the people gathered in the room, all that were pledging themselves to find the missing Slayer. What he saw there wasn't surprising. They were all in mixed stages of grief, even Spike, something that seriously wigged Angel out. But he knew that in his own way, the younger vampire cared for the Slayer greatly. But that fact didn't change anything. If he caught wind of even the slightest news that Spike had mistreated Buffy or her younger sister, he would take great pleasure in ripping him limb from limb.  
  
But when he got to Anya, Angel suddenly paused, curious at the expression on her pretty face. Frowning deeply, the vampire narrowed his dark eyes slightly as he noticed what was so different about her from everyone else. Unlike the rest of the group, she wasn't listening to a word that her boyfriend was saying. Instead, she sat slightly apart from the others, her back to the wall, and she was deeply ingrossed in the large, old book she was reading. Angel recognised it immediately as the book she had taken from the Magic Box earlier. She too, was frowning, but hers was one of deep concentration, instead of suspicion.  
  
He continued to watch Xander's girlfriend as she slowly turned the page of the old book and continued reading. When he couldn't handle it any longer, he straightened and called out softly, "Anya? What are you doing?"  
  
Xander broke off in mid sentence and gave Angel a dirty look for interrupting before he too, followed his gaze and examined his lover who, in turn merely threw the vampire a quick glance of annoyance before going back to her reading as if it was completely normal. Without looking up, she spoke to the group at large, "I'm looking for a way to contact an old friend of mine."  
  
She turned the page of the book slowly, still reading. "She might be able to help us with our currant Slayer problems."  
  
Xander and Angel looked at each other quickly, eyebrows raised in query. Nether man quite knew what to say to that. Clearing his throat, the ex demon's current boyfriend asked her, "Arn? What are you talking about?"  
  
As if deciding that she wasn't going to be left alone on the matter, Anya gave a loud sigh and slammed the book shut. Finally she looked up and, seeing that she had the whole room's attention for once, actually preened and shook her head slightly to get the hair out of her eyes. Casually, she shrugged and started to explain the lore to the incredulous group of people who were staring at her warily.  
  
"I think what has happened is that Buffy has been chucked into a alternate dimension." She shrugged. "I wouldn't have a clue who by, but then, what demon hasn't imagined sending the Slayer into some unmentionable hell at some time or another?" She smiled slightly and got a far away look in her eyes as if she was remembering a fond memory. "They would be the toast of the demonic world for centuries to come. Bloody amazing if they actually manage to do it in the first place, but still, it's every demon's dream."  
  
Seeing the startled expression on Giles and Wesley's faces as they silently shared a look and Xander's raised eyebrows, her eyes flew open wide and she said hastily, "Not that I'd do it *myself* or anything…"  
  
Angel smiled thinly and nodded his head. "That pretty much what we came up with too." Looking worried, he threw the two Watcher's a glance sharply. "But the problem is, how do we get her back?"  
  
"Oh, that's the easy part."  
  
Every pair of eyes flew to meet Anya's. She was positively beaming as she surveyed the room. "As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted," she narrowed her eyes at Angel, "I have a good friend who specialises in this sort of thing. She's a Questor actually."  
  
Wesley leaned forward excitedly. "Indeed?" He turned to Giles. "I've read up on them quite a bit, in fact. Is it true they spend the majority of their time jumping through time?" the last part was spoken to Anya, who from the looks of things had just found herself a new best friend.  
  
Again, she shrugged and looked a bit miffed. "They dramatise everything dreadfully, but yeah, I guess they do time travel a bit. Their actual job is to hunt around the different dimension for missing souls who have lost their way to wherever they're off to and ended up in places they shouldn't be. Cora always used to brag like it was the best flaming job in the world…" she screwed up her nose in distaste. "Always used to go on about all the exotic dimensions that she gets to visit. One of her favourite hobbies was going back in time and killing off semi-important people so that they wouldn't be born in the real time. It used to screw with history something fierce. She had a great old time until the Powers got tired of it and told her off."  
  
Willow looked a tad unsure as she spoke up, "But if your friend goes and gets Buffy from whatever dimension she's been sent to, isn't it going to mess with history already?"  
  
Catching on to what she was meaning, Anya shook her head. "No. That's actually half of their job. To fix any tears in time that might happen when a soul stumbles into a dimension they shouldn't be in." She looked pensive for a moment as she thought the possibility over. "Technically, it wouldn't be a problem for Cora, just zip in, grab miss Slayer, and zip out again." She shrugged. "Questors do it all the time."  
  
Angel, Wesley and Giles looked at each other silently, thinking it over. As much as they didn't like to admit it, Anya's friend might be their only hope. They had nothing else to go on at the moment, and the longer the Slayer was away from Sunnydale, the worse the situation became for all of them.  
  
Angel had heard only a little about Questors. It wasn't something that he had welled on much over the years. All he knew was that they were immortals with demon powers that basically did the Power's That Be's dirty work. The Higher powers seemingly had better things to do than waste time zipping in and out of the thousands and thousands of dimension that made up the universe and cleaned up every one else's mess. Formally, they were the guardian's of time. The mysterious, intelligent, lethal kind that had the power to snatch you out of your very bed if they felt the urge and dump you down in a dimension that was just like yours until you walk out your front door and find this world had been invaded by green Aliens from outer space…. so to speck.  
  
But the vampire wasn't sure if he trusted them well enough to rest the responsibility of getting Buffy back on one of their shoulders. And a friend of Anya's no less. That had to count for something.  
  
The room was silent as Angel quietly observed Giles, just as the others were doing, knowing that the decision was entirely the Watcher's to make. Buffy was his Slayer, after all. But deep down Angel desperately wanted to make the decision for him. He wanted Buffy back now, and was starting to think he wouldn't care how they did it. He was finding that knowing he wasn't in the same dimension as the Slayer was physically painful. Angel felt as if he had lost half of himself, and the remainder of his body was mourning for it, crying out silently for its return.  
  
Again, he wondered what she was doing at this very moment. Was she in pain? Being tortured or something horrible to that extent? Or had she somehow managed to prevail and was desperately searching for a way home, knowing…hoping…that they were doing the same?  
  
Giles had his hands in his lap and he was staring down at them as he thought Anya's possibility over in his head. Angel knew that he was deeply troubled, feeling that this was all moving far to fast…because he felt the same. But he knew in the bottom of his heart that they would probably never get such a good opportunity. And that was why the vampire wasn't surprised when the Watcher finally looked up and over at Anya. His lips were set in a grim line and his eyes were curiously sad as he said quietly to the young woman,  
  
"Do what you have to do, Anya. As soon as we can get in contact with this Cora woman, the sooner we can get Buffy back." Sighing, the Briton looked troubled as he spoke next. "I just hope we are doing the right thing and not leading them to her."  
  
Angel turned his head and stared out into the everlasting darkness of the night's sky, thinking the same thing. He wouldn't be able to forgive himself if they unwittingly lead a whole herd of vampires and demons right to her. Instead, he tried to comfort himself by telling his heart that soon Buffy would be back with them.  
  
Looking up at the heavy pregnant moon that washed his face in a pearly light, Angel slowly closed his eyes, basking in the power from the heavenly body that watched over them regally. And for the first time in many, many years…. he prayed.  
  
***  
  
It took them three days to successfully gather the necessary instruments to summon the Questor. A very busy three days and by the time they all gathered once again in the Summers lounge, every one of the humans were all just about ready to collapse. Angel, Cordelia and Wesley had been back to Los Angeles a few times for supplies, taking young Dawn with them. It seemed that the elder vampire wouldn't let the girl out of his sight, something that pissed Spike off to no end. He had bluntly informed his grandsire that Dawn was perfectly safe with him, and Angel had grudgingly admitted as such. In fact, he knew perfectly well that the young girl couldn't be safer with anyone else. But he simply felt more reassured if he could keep an eye of Dawn himself. Spike would have pulled out both his eyes and ate them before he admitted he understood.  
  
In those three days Angel felt the loss of the Slayer even more. It was strange actually, he had missed her terribly when he moved to Los Angeles, but this…it was almost as if she no longer existed, like she had died. He had always been able to tell himself that she was safe in Sunnydale with the people who loved her most while he was only a few hours drive away. But this, it was completely different. They had no idea where she was. She was more far away from them than she had ever been.  
  
That was why when he again sat down in the Summers lounge, he looked intently at the ex demon as she busied herself in the middle of the floor, setting up the necessary objects that would allow them to contact Cora. There was a frown of concentration of her pretty face as she carefully placed the white candles in the right places on the floor. Angel watched as she got up silently and began to trace a circle of salt around the candles expertly.  
  
Finally, when she was ready, Anya looked up and motioned Tara and Willow over. Clasped tightly in Tara's hands was a large silver goblet encrusted with piercing rubies around the rim. Whatever was inside it was steaming steadily, letting off a faint musky scent around the room. By the way the young woman held the goblet so possessively in her hands, they all knew it was very valuable, not only because of what it held inside, but the goblet itself. It belonged to Anya herself and was one of the only thinks she had managed to keep from her demon days. No one actually knew what significance it held to the young woman, they hadn't wanted to ask, but she had told them all confidently that it would work perfectly in contacting their Questor.  
  
Knowing they were about to begin, the others moved out of the way without being told and found seats. Everyone but the two Watchers just sat down on the floor and leaned up against the wall, Angel included. He wouldn't be taking part in contacting Cora, only Anya and the two Witches had parts to play.  
  
Willow and Tara stood next to each other inside the circle of salt along with Anya, who was facing them. Solemnly, Tara passed the silver goblet to the ex demon and joined hands with her lover. Strangely, there were little words that needed to be spoken, and Anya was going to say them, for as she had explained earlier, she had done it before therefore there was little chance she would screw it up.  
  
After a few moments, Anya slowly reached up with the goblet and took a long drink before passing it to Willow, who did the same before handing it to Tara. They went around the circle until the entire potion was finished and after she drunk down the last drops, Anya put the goblet down on the floor between them. As one, they closed their eyes and took a deep breath. Reaching out simultaneously, they all clasped hands and intertwined their fingers tightly.  
  
As the potion raced through their bodies, Anya lifted her chin slightly and spoke in a clear, even voice,  
  
"Masters of time, here us now.  
  
We call you in this time and in this hour,  
  
The Questors we seek, the guardians of the time that rules us all.  
  
The one named Cora, an elder of your kind.  
  
Allow her to hear us, to hear our call,  
  
And bring her to us on the swift wings of time."  
  
She finished and the room was silent as they all waited anxiously. Cordelia even went as far as to look up at the ceiling as if she expected the woman to come crashing through the roof. No one moved, no one even breathed. Angel saw out of the side of his eye Xander and Gunn share a look, both with raised eyebrows. But as the minutes started to tick by, the vampire frowned and let out an unnecessary breath of air that he hadn't realised he held.  
  
It hadn't worked. When he finally couldn't stand the silence any longer, Angel slapped his hands down on his knees, causing everyone to glance his way. The vampire had just opened his mouth to asked what they do next when a totally unexpected thing happened.  
  
The doorbell rang.  
  
***  
  
Startled glances flew around the room, but Anya didn't see them as she clapped her hands together in delight and practically skipped out of the room to answer it. Sputtering, Giles and Wesley jumped up and followed her, Angel on their tails.  
  
He had just got view of the door as Anya reached it, flicked the lock and opened it wide, grinning madly at the person on the other side. Wasting no time, his eyes flew upwards to examine who in his gut he knew it would be.  
  
But he found that Cora surprised him. He hadn't known what he had expected her to look like, but this certainly wasn't it. For starters, the Questor was incredibly pretty. She was quite small, petite…like Buffy, Angel mused. She had large, bright blue eyes and masses of thick, curly caramel coloured hair that could only be real and ended at her shoulders. She had a delicate, classical face with high check bones and graceful lips that looked like they were made for kissing. She was dressed in faded blue jeans that rested low on her hips and a white, short-sleeved peasant blouse. She had a chic black buret sitting slightly on a lean on top of her head.  
  
Overall, Cora wasn't exactly what Angel had been expecting.  
  
The Questor ignored everyone gaping at her and concentrated entirely on her old friend. Putting her hands on her hips, she cocked her head to the side and grinned mischievously at Anya.  
  
"Where you been, lovie? It's been *ages*!" Angel noticed instantly that she spoke with a faint Irish drawl that was barely detectable. Like him, it was as if she had had a lot of time to perfect her new accent. The vampire admitted to himself that he was curious about the woman. He didn't quite know *what* to make of her.  
  
Reaching over, Anya eloped the shorter woman in a warm hug and they both giggled and rocked slightly as women do. The others watched the exchange quietly in the background. When they pulled back, Cora held Anya there at arms length and made a show of looking her up and down critically.  
  
"Well, I never thought I'd be saying this, Anyanka, luv, but being mortal certainly suits you! I don't think I've seen you look so radiant since…well now, I guess it would have to be the 60s!" She drew back and winked dramatically at her friend.  
  
"You certainly had your plate full then, didn't you? All those open marriages and free sex…Bluh! "  
  
Choosing to ignore the last remark, Anya frowned deeply and looked sullen. "So you heard, did you?"  
  
There was no mistaking what she was talking about and Cora clicked on instantly. Clucking her tongue, she reached out and patted the ex demon's shoulder reassuringly. "Of course I heard, you silly duck. We always used to keep our ears open for news about each other, didn't we? Shame on you for thinking I wouldn't hear about it!" Then she went and gave herself away completely but screwing her nose up in distaste. "Anyway, the way D'Hoffryn was blabbing it about, I'm sure the Power's themselves know by now."  
  
Anya looked horrified. "He hasn't!" she cried, her hand on her mouth.  
  
Looking very sympathetic, Cora only nodded. Looking even more horrified by the second, Anya let out a wail, turned on her heals and ran straight to Xander. She threw herself in his arms and started to stamp her feet in anger. "That asshole! Xander, he's embarrassed me for the rest of my life! How can I face the world after this?"  
  
With a perplexed expression on his face, Xander awkwardly lifted a hand and stiffly patted her on the back. "Ahh… there, there."  
  
Dismissing the two, Angel turned to Cora, who was watching the pair with upturned eyebrows of surprise and curiosity. Folding his arms across his chest, he stared at her hard, causing the woman to turn in his direction. Cora saw his expression and frowned, folding her arms right back at him.  
  
"Now don't look at me like that, sonny. She had to find out sooner or later." She gave a dismissing shake of her hand in the air. "It was better it came from me, anyway."  
  
Angel didn't have time for explanations. "That's fine. But you might be surprised to know we called you here for a reason."  
  
Obviously not trusting him enough in his present mood to continue without insulting the Questor, Giles hurried to butt in. He took a step forward and smiled a little hesitantly at her. Shooting Angel a stern glance to stay quiet, he motioned her further into the house. Narrowing her eyes at Angel one last time, she complied and let the Watcher lead her into the lounge where she sat down next to Dawn without being asked. The young girl shared a quick look with Spike before moving over more out of her way, eyeing her sister's retriever warily.  
  
Cora didn't seem to notice and smiled brightly at the girl. "Now you're a pretty little thing, aren't you?" Then her expression turned curious. Studying the girl intently for a moment, she leaning away and turned back to Giles and the others. Pointing a finger at the Slayer's sister, she whispered, "Ahh, you guys do know that she's…."  
  
Giles cut in. "Yes, yes. Thank you, my dear, but yes, we have realised."  
  
Cora accepted this with a shrug and dropped the matter like it was the most normal thing in the world to be sitting next to the Key. Smiling brightly, she put her hands in her lap and looked at the two Watchers pointly. "Now, what can I do for you?"  
  
But before anyone could answer, she raised her eyebrows at them. "Just don't get any ideas that I do this often, you hear me? I'm helping you out cause your friends of Anyanka here, and she happens to be a very good friend of mine…" On another couch, Anya sniffed and gave a watery smile before borrowing back into Xander. "…So don't start expecting that I'm going to drop everything in the future and help you out, you got me?"  
  
When the all nodded readily, Cora gave a sharp nod before looking up at them blankly. When nobody spoke, she sighed. "Sooo, what's the matter?"  
  
Getting a cue, Giles spoke up and explained how the Slayer had disappeared four nights before. Cora listened intently and asked questions when she felt the need, but on a whole, she just let the Watcher talk. When he finished, she sat back and frowned deeply, thinking it over. They all held their breaths, Angel and Spike included, waiting to see what she was going to say.  
  
"So basically what your telling me is you've lost your Slayer and you want me to disrupt a busy schedule that the whole *world* counts on to go and bring her back, is that right?"  
  
Angel closed his eyes and felt his shoulders droop in defeat. She wasn't going to do it…  
  
Sharing a look with Wesley, Giles cleared his throat nervously and smiled weakly. "Well, that sounds about right."  
  
Cora let her eyes drift off the two Watchers slowly and fall on Angel. His eyes were still closed so he didn't see her studying him, but everyone else sure did. It was almost as if she could read his soul and was giving it a quick once over. Inclining her head to the side thoughtfully, she studied him intently before giving her eyebrows a quick flick upwards gracefully. Almost regretfully, her eyes left the vampire's and went back to Wesley and Giles. They, along with everyone else, looked very anxious. Cordelia and Willow were ringing their hands together.  
  
Finally she just shrugged casually and said, "Sure. It's not like I've got anything better to do."  
  
Angel felt his eyes pop open in surprise as she continued, ignoring the gaping group of people in the room. "This is gonna be the most interesting thing I've done all week." She grinned evilly as a thought occurred to her. "Just wait until D'Hoffryn hears about this one, Anyanka, he's gonna be pea green with envy! The bastard, that'll teach him!"  
  
Cora started to laugh and slapped her hands on her knees at her own good luck.  
  
"So you'll go get Buffy?" Dawn whispered, stunned at she stared at the woman next to her on the couch. When Cora turned to her with a smile and nodded kindly, Dawn burst into tears as four days of stress and worry finally caught up with her. The Questor lost her smile fast and threw Spike a startled glance.  
  
"What's wrong with her, vampire?" she asked as Spike quickly put an arm around his little friend and pulled her closer to him, ignoring Angel's growl of warning.  
  
"She'll be okay, she just misses her big sister, 'is all."  
  
Cora seemed to except this, but she still looked rather worried as she stared at Dawn. "Just don't blow me up or anything, okay, hon?" she joked, although she looked rather anxious. This caused Dawn to hush and she looked terribly confused as she glared at Cora through her tears. The Questor didn't seem to notice and she patted the young girl on her shoulder awkwardly  
  
"Your sis will be back in a jiffy, now that good old Cora's on the job, don't you worry." Seemingly deciding her part was over, she dismissed the perplexed Key and abruptly stood, letting her hands fall to her sides as she straightened. Taken by surprise as her abruptness, the others craned their necks to glance at her face.  
  
"Well, there's no time like the present, I always say."  
  
Giles jumped to his feet and shot Cora a stunned look. "You mean…you can go now?" he obviously hadn't expected things to move so fast. Nether had Angel and he was frowning as he too, slowly got to his feet. He had a guarded, suspicious expression on his face.  
  
Cora just shrugged. "Why not?" She started to pace back and forward as she went over her plan of action. "Now, I'll need the vampire over there to come with me, for starters." She threw Angel a quick glance so the others knew she was talking about him, not Spike. The blonde vampire looked considerably relived with that, he obviously hadn't been fond of the idea of time travelling.  
  
Giles sputtered, "What in the world for? We were under the impression that you could do it yourself."  
  
The Questor frowned in annoyance as she came to a stop facing Buffy's Watcher. "Usually, I can time travel by myself, thank you very much. But it might not have occurred to you, English, that your girl isn't going to have any idea who I am. We have no idea what kind of condition she's in, what she's had to endure in the last four days."  
  
She shot Anya an unreadable glance before continuing, "And the fact that I hadn't known she had been switched in the first place is quite a worry. Usually a Questor can tell instantly when there's been a tear in the dimensions, or something's out of wack, but on this one there's been nothing."  
  
She jerked her head towards Angel as the others listened. "Now, even if nobody's going to admit it, your Slayer is obviously very close to Angel Eyes over here, and that's why he needs to come with me." She shrugged, leaving the rest to their imagination. "If anyone can reach her, it'll be him."  
  
Cordelia suddenly spoke up. "How long is this going to take, anyway? We need to get back to LA soon." As Xander shot her a disgusted glance, she huffed, insulted. "Well, we do!" She narrowed her eyes at her ex boyfriend. "Unlike some people I can mention, we're actually needed at our job!"  
  
Cora rolling her eyes at their blatant show of jealousy. "It wont take much time at all, actually. It'll be finding the girl once we get there that will be the problem. A day tops, I'd say."  
  
Angel glanced at Giles who was going over everything in his head. They locked eyes and the Watcher raised his eyebrows in an unspoken question. But already knowing the answer, he just nodded shortly like he knew what he would find and turned back to the Questor.  
  
"Alright, then. Do what you have to do. But please find her, I beg you." He glanced quickly at Dawn so Cora knew what he was talking about. "She is needed here."  
  
Seriously, Cora nodded back, understanding. She turned to Angel, who was waiting behind her, reading to go.  
  
"Alright then, lets get this show on the road."  
  
Cordelia, Wesley and Gunn all stood and gathered around their vampire. Not knowing what to say, the two men just patted Angel on the shoulder and wished him good luck. Cordelia was a little bit more open in her feelings. Ignoring the others watching them, she reached up and hugged Angel tightly and closed her eyes in relief when she heard him chuckle and hug her back. "You find her and come back to us soon, you hear me?" she whispered into his hair.  
  
Pulling back, Angel smiled reassuringly down at the shorter brunette and nodded. Her gave her a lopsided grin. "Wish me luck."  
  
Cordelia smiled slightly at his obvious attempt to make her feel better and whispered, "Good luck." She stepped back and her place was immediately filled with the two girls who meant the most to the missing Slayer. Willow and Dawn. Willow looked like she was holding back tears of her own as she looked up into the face of the dark vampire who meant so much to her best friend. They stared at each other for a moment, words failing them, before Willow closed her eyes tightly and hugged Angel to her. "Look after her, Angel, please. She is going to need you." She whispered.  
  
Frowning, the vampire drew back and found Willow looking deep into his eyes. There was a look there that was deeply disturbing and it shook the vampire to his soul.  
  
"Willow?" he asked, but she just shook her head silently, telling him not to push. But Angel couldn't stop thinking that Willow knew more than she was saying. He wanted to ask her more, but found that she wouldn't allow it and silently moved away, letting Dawn take her place. Xander, Spike and Giles were standing behind the young girl, but Angel didn't see them, his gaze was locked on Willow's. He watched, growing more concerned by the minute, as Tara slowly walked over to her were she now stood, out of the way of the group, and took her lover in her arms.  
  
"Don't say anything, vampire." A voice spoke in his ear, and he turned his head to find Cora standing there by herself, looking at Willow too, with an accepting, somewhat respectful expression on her face. "She has her reasons for staying silent, and you will respect them."  
  
Nodding, the vampire turned away from her and smiled gently down at Dawn as she gazed hopefully up at him. The rest of the goodbyes and 'good lucks' were spoken but years later as Angel would try and think back and recall them, he would find that they were blank.  
  
Tearing his gaze away from Dawn's worried face, he searched the room for Cora and found her hugging a still snivelling Anya. Pulling back, the Questor reached up and cupped her old friend's face gently. "After all this is done, me and you are gonna have a good long talk, you hear me?"  
  
Looking miserable, Anya only nodded and let Xander wrap his arms around her waist, leaning back against his strong body for comfort. Cora saw this and huffed, giving Xander a curious glance. "And we're gonna have words too, young man."  
  
Stepping back, she found Angel at her side. Speaking quietly for his ears only, she muttered, "Don't worry about a change of clothes or anything, we'll have it when we arrive."  
  
Then she looked up and around the room. Obviously finding what she wanted, Cora smiled kindly and held out her hand. "Come over here for a bit, will you, hon?" Looking up, Angel saw she was talking to Dawn. The girl looked startled at being singled out but complied passively, walking over to the Questor and held out her hand to be taken, but she quickly dropped it when a voice came from behind her.  
  
"Hey, now, watcha doing?" Not in the least bit surprisingly, this came from Spike. He looked worried as he pushed himself through Xander and Gunn to stand at the front of the group. "I certainly hope you don't intend to take her with you, cause you aren't!"  
  
Cora just rolled her eyes. "No, she's staying right here with you, you big lug. How do you think I'm going to find the damn Slayer in the first place if I don't have something to go on?" When the all looked blank, she shook her head and sighed. "Although this comparison is totally insulting, I guess you could say I'm like a blood hound. I need something, a scent if you will, that allows me to hunt around the dimensions quickly and pin- point which one she's in, do you follow?"  
  
Not waiting for their response, she reached out and grabbed Dawn's hand and closed her eyes, concentrating. She was silent for a moment, her face blank, until she suddenly smiled brightly, dropped Dawn's hand and muttered, "Gotcha!"  
  
Opening her eyes slowly, she blinked and gave her head a slight shake. "There we go. That wasn't to hard, now was it?" This was directed at Spike, but he just frowned and looked sullen.  
  
Giles blinked in surprise. "You've found where she is?" he asked, looking stunned.  
  
Cora just smiled and nodded. "I can see where she is, but not what its like or anything. That's for only when you arrive there." She looked up at Angel. "Now, you ready?" she asked. The vampire nodded his head, looking determined.  
  
Reaching out, she clasped his hand and held it tightly. Facing the group, Angel gave them all a reassuring, nervous grin and a little wave with the hand that wasn't holding onto Cora's.  
  
Glancing over at the Questor at his side, he was just in time to see her close her eyes and breath deeply. Understanding that he should be too, he followed suit.  
  
And as one, they seemed to flicker in and out before disappearing completely.  
  
And at that moment the world seemed to pause in itself and hold its breath. Time stopped, the world groaned, and as the Powers that Be suddenly awoke from their enteral slumber and gasped in horror…. the world shuddered as the fates cried out in surprise.  
  
And curled up in a warm bed far, far away from it all, dreaming about the ball that she was to attend in a few days time…. Buffy Summers suddenly shot up in her bed, the blackness of night eloping her as her wide, terrified eyes roamed the room for the danger she could feel deep in her bones. Finding only the two still, content forms of the young girls in the beds beside her, the Slayer tried to steady her breathing, but found she could not. Laying there, her sheets pooling around her waist, she gasped, sucking in huge breaths of air as one single thought occurred to her.  
  
Something had gone terribly wrong. 


	7. The Unforeseen Travellers

PART 7: "The Unforeseen Travellers"  
  
Somewhere just outside St Petersburg..  
  
Cora was worried.  
  
It didn't take a genius to figure that out, Angel decided as he stared openly at her from where she stood beside him, hands firmly on her hips, gazing around their bleak surroundings with a deep frown attached to her face. Actually, bleak was too kind a word to describe the surroundings the Questor and the vampire had found themselves in when arriving at their final destination. For a number of reasons. Firstly, it was the snow. SNOW. Angel couldn't remember when he had last seen so much of the stuff in one place before, and that was saying something for he had travelled the world extensively in his long life.  
  
They had arrived smack bang in what looked like a piece of paper that someone had conveniently painted completely white. The hill-less plains stretched on forever, and it was only when he squinted tightly that Angel could make out the faint figures of leafless trees in the distance. Even those looked bleak and frozen. There were no buildings, no cars.hell, there weren't even any *roads* to speak of. Adding that all together it wasn't hard to come to the conclusion that there weren't any people anywhere near them.  
  
The second reason, and from Angel perspective the most important, was the slightly obvious fact that it was the middle of the day. Even if there wasn't much sun to speak of as the dark, swollen clouds blanketed the orb's rays from ever reaching the earth. But after spending the last few hundreds years of your life living without the stuff (certain recent one off days excluded, of course) Angel tended to believe that you were bound to notice kind of quickly when you suddenly find yourself bathed in the haunting glow.  
  
So it wasn't surprising that the vampire had given a startled kind of yelp and ducked, covering his head quickly with his hands as if he truly believed that was going to do him any good. He had waited, terrified, for the burning sensation that he knew so well to start snaking its way up and through his body, wishing somewhere deep inside himself that he could have seen Buffy just one more time before he left this world.  
  
But nothing had happened.  
  
After a few seconds had ticked by, the shaking vampire had slowly took his hands of his face and blinked stupidly up at the sky above him in stunned wonder as he it could tell him what the hell was going on. As if in a daze, the dark haired man had brought his hands up in front of his face, flipping them over before his incredulous gaze, as if he hadn't set eyes on them before, a wondrous grin slowly appearing on his lips.  
  
It had been the sound of laughter that had made his head jerk up and stare, open mouthed, at the woman with thick, bushy hair who was standing with her hands on her knees, almost doubling over as she laughed, tears gathering in her eyes. Well, at least someone seems to find this amusing, Angel had thought, frowning at her in disapproval. He didn't find the situation in the least bit funny.  
  
"Go head, laugh." He had told her darkly. "But I'd like to see what you'd do if you found you could suddenly do something that's meant to be impossible."  
  
Cora had quickly sobered and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. Looking at him apoplectically, she told him with a wide grin, "I'm sorry, Angel. It's just that I haven't seen anything so funny in ages! You should have seen your face.!" This seemed to set her off again, for she had started to giggle uncontrollably and had to slap her hand over her mouth to muffle the sound.  
  
But she had quickly stopped whatever giggling was still inside her at the shocked look on the vampire's face as her stared at her, seemingly seeing her for the first time.  
  
"Cora, what in god's name are you *wearing*!?"  
  
Cora looked down at herself instantly, and with an exclaim of complete dismay she stared, open mouthed at her attire. Angel could feel a grin of his own forming at her reaction. She was dressed in what looked like a old fashioned, black woollen skirt that fell briskly to her ankles, allowing the tips of snow encrusted black boots to peep out the bottom. On top she wore a long, thick cloak that was so startlingly white Angel could have sworn it was made from ermine.  
  
Frowning deeply, the vampire walked over to Cora and fingered the lush material on her arm lightly, seemingly trying to decipher its quality. Looking up, he met her gaze squarely.  
  
"What is this?" he asked, no longer in the mood for games. Truthfully, this whole thing was starting to freak him out. All he wanted to do is find Buffy and get the hell out of here. The sooner the better.  
  
Cora just sighed and pushed away from him, looking around their surroundings with eagle eyes as she answered the vampire, "It always happens, don't worry. It's the main way Questors blend into the civilizations when we are on missions." She finally looked at him out of the corner of her eye, a sly grin on her face. "Did you really expect to walk around this place in leather pants and a duster?"  
  
Startled, Angel looked down at himself, for the first time realising he too, was dressed in different clothing. But in his opinion, his weren't nearly as bad as Cora's. True to her word, his leather pants and black duster were gone, probably never to be seen again, only to be replaced with black slacks, black boots and a warm, grey fur jacket.  
  
Angel groaned. "What is this place?" he muttered, casting another wary glance up into the sky. Catching his gaze, Cora nodded in understanding.  
  
"As for the whole sun light thing.." She shrugged. "Who knows? The Powers work in mysterious ways, as you very well know. Maybe they finally realised you would be more of a help finding the Slayer if you weren't restricted by the day light." Suddenly she glanced at him pensively, an uncharacteristically gentle smile on her face.  
  
"Treasure this gift, Angel. We have no way of knowing how long it will last." That last bit succeeded in jolting him back to reality. They had a very important job to do and it wouldn't do to stand here for the rest of the day, mulling over things they couldn't change.  
  
As if she noticed the change come over the vampire, Cora rubbed her hands together briskly, trying to warm them up. Without looking at him, she told Angel, "I can tell that we have travelled back in time about 80 years." She shook her head. "At this stage, I can't be more exact than that, sorry."  
  
She once again glanced down at her clothes. "From what we are wearing and the very obvious evidence of snow, I'd say we are in Europe somewhere. We won't be able to tell until we come across a town or something with signs." She shot him a grin. "This part of the job really sucks. You never know where your gonna end up. Once I found myself dancing the Can-can in a 17th century whore house in London."  
  
At his open mouthed gap, she shrugged casually. "That isn't an experience I'm going to repeat in a hurry, I'll tell you."  
  
As he was still staring at her, slightly wary, the Questor grinned broadly and jerked her head in the direction of the group of trees Angel had noticed earlier. "Shall we be off? We're never gonna find your girl standing here freezing to death. The sooner we get to some sort of settlement, the sooner we can get some information about this place." Then she muttered darkly, "Not to mention get to heat into our bones.I'm freezing!"  
  
Nodding, Angel fell into step beside her and the Questor and the vampire started their slow yet steady pace towards the trees, thankful at least that it was not snowing and there was little evidence of wind. They weren't stupid enough to believe they could have survived out here in the wilderness in any harsher climate. Over all, they had been rather lucky to end up where they had.  
  
Although, Angel mused, a little closer to some sort of civilization would have been nice.  
  
****  
  
Two very long hours later, Cora was still walking along, silent, lost in thought. Her and Angel hadn't talked much over the last few hours of their journey, instead concentrating on forcing their feet to move through the thick snow that lay at their feet and trying to ignore the horrible feeling of freezing melted snow seeping into their boots through their socks. Over all, it had to be some of the most uncomfortable few hours of Cora's very long life.  
  
As they had walked on and on, and no hint of a change in landscape seemed to be near, the Questor could feel her patience running thin. She hadn't had this kind of greeting in a new time in years and it wasn't something she hoped she would have to repeat in a long while. She was used to blending into warm cities with happy, bustling people going about their day- to-day business, not concerned about the ancient traveller they had in their mists. That was one of the main things Cora loved about her job. The fact that even though the centuries rolled by on angel's wings and civilizations grew and fell like the tide, the atmosphere in large cities, whether they were ancient or modern, never changed. They were still the busy, centre point of the people who lived and breathed its life.  
  
Cora loved nothing more than to hop back to places like ancient Athens or Rome and stroll down their busy streets, letting the sounds of human life wash over her, not noticed by the street vendors as they sold their wares. She would go sit for the whole day on top of the Capitoline Hill in Rome and listen to the sound of the priestesses chanting away to their gods for salvation.  
  
That was why she really didn't need to be stuck in the middle of some god forsaken country looking for a missing Slayer who, from what Cora had heard in the last few years, got herself in dire trouble a couple of times a week! Why had she agreed to help these people in the first place? Was it out of some misplaced loyalty to Anya that had made her say yes? She had known the vengeance demon for a very long time, true, but that hadn't stopped her refusing people's pleas in the past. Or had it been the stricken, tear stained face of the Key, who had been mourning the loss of the beloved sister she never actually had?  
  
Whatever, Cora thought, shaking her head. She tried to force herself to think of something different. It couldn't be healthy to dwell on the past. But look where it had taken her. She was traipsing though knee-deep snow in a skirt that she wouldn't usually have worn even if someone had paid her with D'Hoffryn's head on a platter, wondering idly if central heating had been invented yet.  
  
The thought of D'Hoffryn made her pause and groan. If this ever got back to him.. hell, Anya needn't worry about being the laughing stock of the demon community ever again. Cora would be winning gold in that department for the rest of her life.  
  
Her shoulders drooping with the thought, Cora started walking again, but had only got a few feet when she stumbled, her foot disappearing through the suddenly deep snow. She cried out in surprise and pitched forward, squeezing her eyes closed in dread as she waited for the shock of the coldness as she face planted the snow. But it never came. Instead, strong hands grabbed her slight form around her waist and pulled her backwards, crushing her against a firm chest.  
  
Gasping for a breath, Cora brought her hands up to clutch her chest and she could feel her heart beating wildly. When the arms suddenly released her, the Questor spun around, stumbling again in the process, and had to reach out and steady herself on her saviour's arms to stop herself falling over.  
  
Looking up she found herself staring into Angel's lopsided grin as he lightly reached out and clasped her forearm, Cora giving him a grateful smile for his trouble. "Thanks, Angel. I guess I'm more tired than I thought." She grimaced suddenly and reached down to massage her ankle. "How do you feel about taking a little break?"  
  
But Angel didn't answer, the hand gripping her arm tightening suddenly. Curious, Cora lifted her head and straightened, frowning up into his face. "What's the matter?" she asked.  
  
Angel looked completely thunderstruck as he gave a long gasp of awe and dropped her arm, stepping away from Cora as if he had forgotten she was there. He took a few steps forward before stopping, his hands hanging limply at his sides.  
  
"Angel?" Cora said again, getting concerned, walking up to stand slightly behind him. Putting a hand on the back of his shoulder, she had just opened her mouth to inquire again when she finally raised her eyes and followed the vampire's gaze.  
  
She froze, her mouth falling open slowly in complete disbelief.  
  
Cora wondered idly why she hadn't realised they had been climbing a hill. For that's where they were, standing at the top of a small hill that allowed them to see for miles. As a faint wind reached them and started dancing through her hair, Cora's eyes gazed back and forth over the spectacle before them.  
  
It was a city. A huge, snow-caped city. Rising from its depths were what seemed like hundreds of domes shooting into the sky proudly. Enormous buildings stretched out on the banks of what looked like a frozen river, hundreds of bridges arching over its waters. In the distance, Cora could just make out the sound of bells singing matins faintly on the wind.  
  
"Jesus." she breathed, recognising the city instantly. After all, there weren't many places on earth that could boast the wonders that St Petersburg did. She would recognise those domes anywhere.  
  
And she knew their task had just gotten a wee bit harder.  
  
**** A while later..  
  
The Nevsky Prospect had never looked so beautiful, Cora decided as she idly strolled down the pavement of the shopping capital of St Petersburg, her hands swaying slightly at her sides as she glanced back and forth in rapt fascination at the huge, imposing buildings that she hadn't set eyes on for almost 85 years.  
  
She had almost forgotten that Angel was walking silently along beside her, lost in his own memories of the place, as she listened with a slight smile on her face to the sound of the swishing bells that danced past them on the horse drawn Troikas which swished past each other like lightening. On the side of the pavement, crowds of people gathered around the more humble vehicles available for hire. There were horses attached to thick-set carts, each surrounded by a huge, bear like man in a thick grey coat, ready to sell their wears in the capital to the richer society for the winter before going back to their humble villages.  
  
Watching the bustling people hurry down the street, head's down in the position that was almost second nature for Russians to keep the snow off their faces, Cora couldn't help the smile that formed on her lips. She had forgotten how much she had once loved this place. It had been her home in some of the best years of her long life.  
  
Ducking her head, she watched the cobbled stones beneath her feet as they walked along, not really having a destination, letting the fates take them wherever they had planned for them to go next.  
  
A young woman bundled up warmly in furs gave them a curious look as she hurried past them, but Cora didn't care. She had seen it all before. The glances, the whispers, and didn't mind them at all. The people of St Petersburg were a curious lot, she knew from first hand experience.  
  
"Cora?" A hesitant voice sounded from beside her and the Questor shook her head, breaking her train of thought.  
  
"Umm?" she murmured absent-mindedly, not really listening to him.  
  
"Where are we going?" the vampire asked, shifting uncomfortably. "We can't just walk around here all day, surely." Looking sheepish, he continued gently. "As much as I would love to, though."  
  
As they walked, Angel glanced up and about almost wistfully. "I haven't been here in almost a 150 years. It would be nice to have a look around again." Suddenly, he looked down at her. "You have been in St Petersburg before?" he asked, curious.  
  
Cora gave a dry, humourless chuckle that made Angel frown. "Yeah, you can say that." Seeing that he wasn't going to comment, she sighed and continued. "I lived here for five years. I was taking a break from work, I guess you could say." At that comment she lost her humour and looked almost sad. Looking down quickly, she hurried to complete her little confession.  
  
"I got out just as the Revolution was beginning." She shrugged, a haunted look clouding her face. "It wasn't the best time to be Russia, as you know. I haven't been back since."  
  
Nodding, Angel wisely remained silent. He hadn't seen first hand what the revolution had done to this magnificent city but he had heard the stories, the rumours. And for a not-long souled vampire, they were horrifying. The starving, frozen people left lying in the streets, dead and dying as the soldiers marched by.. towards the palace..  
  
Angel shook his head, clearing his thoughts. The vampire community, he knew, had had a field day in Russia during those dreadful years. It had become prime hunting grounds and just the thought of it now made Angel sick. Looking up at the proud, majestic buildings around them, at the small group of people huddled together in the doorway of a fashionable shop, laughing and sharing swigs of a bottle Angel would have sworn held Vodka to keep them warm, he couldn't picture how different the scene would be in a few years.  
  
People hanging out of windows, screaming at the soldiers as they marched past.banners held high in the air as the protesting, yelling people made their way through the streets, the Cyrillic symbols flashing boldly into the sky, the people watching with wide, solemn eyes from the footpath. bodies littering the streets where they fell as people turned and ran, screaming in terror as the Cossack soldiers fired into the chaos.  
  
"It was terrible."  
  
Angel looked down quickly, seeing the clouded expression in Cora's eyes before it closed over, hiding. Inclining her head to the side slightly, she stopped and pointed to a building across the street from them. It was about three stories high and made from a very elaborate design. The vampire could tell that this was one of the social points of the Nevsky Prospect, if the number of Troikas parked outside it meant anything. There were brightly dressed men and woman milling outside or in the doorway, snug and warm in their furs.  
  
"I remember watching a group of kids, children really, braking into that store to hide from the soldiers." She stared at building for a long while, her face expressionless, but an obvious hidden battle going on inside her. When she did speak again, her voice was soft and filled with pain.  
  
"But there was no escaping them.none. They went in there and pulled those girls out by their hair. Shot them dead right there in front of that doorway. All five of them. And I didn't do anything to help them. Nothing. I just sat there, in my room across the street..." Angel shot a quick look at the buildings on their side of the road; trying to see what one she was talking about. "And put my hands over my ears and screamed and screamed. I just wanted to get the sound of the guns and yelling out of my head. I don't even remember Louis running in the room and."  
  
She abruptly cut off, vigorously wiping the tears out of her eyes. Angel realised she had said more than she had planned to.  
  
She let her head drop so she stared at the ground. "I left the next day. I was in so much shock and so terrified I didn't even think to use my powers to get out of there." She chuckled dryly. "I just let them bundle me onto a steamer and sailed away from it all. I think we were in Paris before I came to my senses and got out of there. Anyanka had been beside herself with worry.nobody had known where I was.."  
  
She shook her blonde head suddenly and straightened. "But that is enough of my sad story. I'm sure your bored to death." She shot Angel a dazzling smile that was obviously forced. Angel opened his mouth to disagree but he saw the warning look on Cora's face and wisely closed it with a snap.  
  
They fell into an uncomfortable silence, nether quite knowing what to say. They had just resumed walking when Cora suddenly asked the vampire casually, "Would you like to get some more clothes? If we're going to be blending in here we will need to look the part." She looked down at herself again, some of the old disgust flitting onto her pretty face at the clothing.  
  
"As much as I hate to say it, we are actually wearing kind of fashionable clothes at the moment. This coat of mine must have cost a pretty penny." She shot Angel a slight grin, her earlier tears seemingly forgotten. "Do you think we should take that as a sign from the Powers that we will be mixing with the cream of society, or what?"  
  
"Your girl must have really picked the right people to hang out with if that's the case." She said teasingly. Angel's eyebrows shot up in alarm then a slow smile spread across his face.  
  
"Buffy? With that lot?" He chuckled deeply. "Now that's something I'd pay to see. They wouldn't know what hit them if she was around."  
  
Sneaking a glance up at his face, Cora smiled gently at the fond expression she found there as he thought of the missing Slayer. "Don't worry, Angel. We'll find her before you know it."  
  
He shrugged his shoulders. "Oh, it's not her I'm worried about." The vampire grinned knowingly as Cora's eyebrows rose in surprise at his remark. "I'd be willing to bet that Buffy would put them in their place, prince or no prince. She doesn't take crap from anyone. And for some reason, I don't think that would quite blow over with society."  
  
Cora laughed. "You know, I can't wait to met this girl of yours. She sounds like my kind of people."  
  
Smiling in answer, Angel looked around at the buildings before changing the topic. "If your serious about shopping, how about that one?" he asked, pointing to a shop on their side of the road that they had almost come to.  
  
Still grinning, Cora followed his arm, and then suddenly the grin dropped off her lips as the colour drained from her face. Stopping abruptly, she stared at the building pensively. "That one?" she asked in a quite voice.  
  
Frowning at the sudden change in her behaviour, Angel said slowly, "Yeah. Why? Do you want to chose another?"  
  
Clenching her jaw, the vampire saw the Questor's eyes harden with resolve as she took a deep breath. "No. That ones fine."  
  
"Cora?" Angel asked, concerned. He reached out a hand to touch her shoulder gently. But Cora skipped away, not letting him touch her. "Are you sure?"  
  
Sending the vampire a tight smile, she briskly walked forward, her back ridged. "Yes, Angel, I'm sure. Now come on."  
  
Angel frowned. He had known the Questor was mysterious, but this really took the cake. The girl had secrets, that were obvious. And as he quickly hurried to catch up with her, Angel decided he was determined to discover what they were while they were here.  
  
* * * *  
  
"Can I help you?"  
  
Angel lifted his head, looking briefly into the collected, if somewhat dismayed face of the smartly dressed young man who had come up to them reluctantly, before looking down at Cora again, letting her take the lead. As she had explained to him in a hushed voice as they walked through the huge wooden doors into the shop, she knew this city better than he did, knew how to handle the people of St Petersburg. In other words, she told him to shut up and let her do the talking.  
  
As casual as she did this everyday, Cora flashed the man a quick smile, turning to face him straight on. She straightened her back, squared her shoulders, and raised her chin before answering the man. The result was instantaneous. Blinking at the change in the girl, who he had originally taken for a middle-class merchant coming into to buy her Sunday best, he too, straightened and folded his hands neatly in front of him.  
  
"Madam?" If nothing, his voice was now filled with respect.  
  
"We will be needing a few complete changes of clothes." Cora told him smartly. "And that means everything; coats, suits, dresses, gloves, mittens.the works." Her eyes fell on the material around them in obvious dismay. "And this will not be acceptable."  
  
Staring into his now slightly sweating face, she told him firmly, "Show us what else you have or we will take our service elsewhere."  
  
"Yes, madam. Right away, madam." Nodding his head quickly, the young man gave them a rushed bow before departing at an almost run.  
  
Turning to Angel, she saw that he was staring at her in respectful awe. Grinning, she flicked her hair. "What?" But Angel only shook his head slowly in disbelief.  
  
"You are unbelievable." He spread his hands out wide, taking in the wealthy shop around them. "How are you intending to pay for all of this anyway? My accounts in this time will still be working and I *do* have a lot of money saved up in those, but it will take a few days to get things organised."  
  
But Cora just waved his questions away with a swish of her hand. "Don't worry about it, Angel. I do this all the time. And my accounts *are* up and running and ready to go. I have enough money for us to live here comfortable for a few months at least." Her eyebrows rising charmingly, she looked around them in distaste. "Although, I really hope we are out of here by then. I really don't miss wearing these dreadful clothes. Give me jeans any day of the week, I look like a blimp whale in this get up."  
  
"I really must disagree with that, my dear." A smooth, polished voice came from behind them, causing both Angel and Cora to turn around in surprise as nether had heard the man approach. Obviously expecting the sales clerk to be back again, they both blinked when they instead found a very handsome man in his early 30s wearing a tailored black suit, dark hair and glasses, standing there calmly, a slight smile lighting his smooth face.  
  
Beside him, Angel heard Cora give a small gasp and he stole a quick glance at her, only to find her eyes riveted on the man's face, her own quite pale. Putting a hand on the small of her back in support, the vampire was astounded when she unconsciously leaned back into his embrace. The man noticed this and frowned in concern, taking a step forward.  
  
"Are you ill, madam? I can get.." He looked up as he spoke, his eyes searching for someone. But Cora shook her head and stood up straight again.  
  
"No, no. I'm quite alright." She smiled reassuringly at the men, both who were watching her, troubled. Angel made a mental note to ask his companion about it later.  
  
Taking a step away from Angel, Cora took a deep breath and looked the man squarely in the eyes, as if trying to push down hidden emotions deep inside herself so they wouldn't see. The man blinked and cleared his throat nervously under her gaze. He instead concentrated on Angel, seemingly deciding this was safer ground. "How can my men be in assistance to you today? He asked pleasantly, not looking at Cora. "Mikhail said you were after complete changes of clothes, is that correct?"  
  
Angel nodded his head, his thoughts still clouded by Cora. "Yes. We have just arrived in Russia and found that our attire is not suitable." He snorted in mock irony. "It turns out that we were not properly informed about the dreadful weather you have in this country of yours."  
  
The young man smiled politely, his hands behind his back. "I am dreadfully sorry about that, sir. Russia's weather can come across as a bit of a shock to westerners, I agree." He stepped forward slightly, peering at the rolls of material around them. Suddenly, shot Cora a quick, calculated look before frowning in dismay. "You are quite correct, sir. These are not suitable. If you would follow me.." He gave them a smart little bow and started to lead them across the plush, white carpet of the shop.  
  
As they walked off, the still oddly silent Cora trailing behind the two men, her earlier commands about being in change having long been forgotten, Angel found himself being drawn into conversation with the pleasant young man, who had introduced himself as none other than Mr Betran, the actual owner of the large store.  
  
He must have caught Angel surprised glance at this news for he have a polite little laugh and looked quite sheepish as he tried to explain. "My father died less than three years ago, leaving the family store in my hands. I have four older sisters, you see, and as my father died so suddenly, I have come into my inheritance quite young."  
  
Angel nodded in understanding. "If I may be so bold, it doesn't seem to make a difference in the slightest. You are obviously very skilled at what you do."  
  
Betran dipped his head in acknowledgment of the compliment and gave a small smile of gratitude. "Why, thank you sir." He chuckled quietly and said to the vampire in a low voice, "I must tell you what a pleasure and an honour it is for me to be able to serve Americans in my store, sir. I find them so much more able to express their likes and dislikes of fabrics and such than Russians, who I find are more reserved."  
  
Suddenly, as if remembering something pleasant, his warm eyes brightened. "In fact, I had the pleasure in serving a delightful creature not this week past. An American, like yourself, who I found an absolute treasure in dressing. She took an almost childlike delight in choosing her clothes, in a way I find similar in most Americans." He frowned slightly with the thought and when he continued, Angel got the impression Betran wasn't talking to him anymore. "Although, even more so in her case. It was almost as if she had no recollection of the clothes before."  
  
Blinking, he gave his dark haired head a quick shake and grinned at Angel as they walked across the floor. "I guess America most be greatly different than Russia." He eyes were filled with question.  
  
Numb from his words, Angel just managed to nod and murmur, "Indeed." His eyes wide, he mentally ran back Betran's words in his head, picking out the important facts that he could use as evidence. Not daring to turn to see if Cora had picked up on if as well, Angel was silent as he carefully chose his words before continuing.  
  
"This customer you talk about." he started slowly, looking very serious as he rubbed his chin with one hand thoughtfully. Mr Betran turned his head slightly in surprise as he ushered them into a more exclusive area of the store. There were rolls upon rolls of rich coloured silk and satin materials everywhere they looked.  
  
"Yes?" Betran asked, not even looking as Cora ungracefully sat down in one of the plush sofas, her eyes filled with unbridled pain as she stared at the two men, seemingly in a state of shock. Angel ignored her for the moment, having more pressing matters to turn to.  
  
"Was she blonde?" Angel asked carefully, his eyes glued on the wealthy young man's face. Betran frowned in concern with the odd questions, wondering how much he should say.  
  
"Indeed she was." He answered slowly, breaking eye contact with the vampire by picking up a roll of rose coloured silk and placing it on another pile idly.  
  
He didn't fail to notice, though, the sound of Angel sucking in an unnecessary gasp of air. Turning back around to face the stunned vampire slowly, Betran's expression was more guarded now.  
  
"Is there a problem, sir?" he asked, but Angel ignored him. He walked briskly across the carpet and kneeled down in front of Cora, who looked into his face in confusion.  
  
"Angel?" she asked quietly, startled when the vampire reached out and took her hands in his.  
  
"Its Buffy, Cora. It has to be." He whispered hoarsely, but loud enough for Betran, who had been trying in no avail not to listen to them, to hear. The name struck a cord with the Russian, and with a start, he remembered it was the name the Grand Duchesses called Miss Elizabeth when they visited his store earlier in the week.  
  
Turning quickly, he stared openly at the two figures whispering together, wondering how the knew the beautiful American. He doubted they meant her any harm; the look of desperate longing on the man's face was evidence enough of that, but for what reason were they here in Russia? Were they here to collect her maybe? Then why would the Romanov's go to such trouble to buy her all new clothes if she wasn't going to be staying for an extended period of time?  
  
With these questions swimming around in his head, Betran made a quick decision and took a hesitant step forward. Speaking clearly, yet curiously, he asked the two figures, who had all but forgotten he was in the room,  
  
"How is it you know Miss Elizabeth?"  
  
****  
  
Angel stilled, his hushed sentence breaking off as the man's words flowed into his brain and registered. Silently, his eyes flew up to meet Cora's, who suddenly wasn't looking so lost and pained as she had a few minutes before. As if a light had been switched on in her brain, the young woman eyes were bright with anticipation and her back straightened with tension.  
  
Slowly, she turned her head to stare, wide eyed, at Mr Betran, as if seeing him fully for the first time. As Betran watched, worried, Angel turned to stare at him also, both of their eyes filled with hope.  
  
It was Cora who broke the silence. "You know where she is?" she whispered, astounded.  
  
His reaction wasn't what she had expected. As if he found her question hilarious, a large grin broke out on his face. If nothing, this served to ease the tension that had suddenly built up in the room. But Cora and Angel didn't notice this at all; they were staring at Betran in disbelief, wondering what on earth to make of his unusual answer.  
  
Seeing their reaction, Betran sobered, but he still had a warm grin on his face when he answered them. "Of course I know where she is.. Don't you?" The last bit was said cautiously.  
  
The Questor and the Vampire shot each other a swift look, before making their faces completely neutral. Voicing the story that he pulled from his head at that instant, Angel explained to Betran, "Cora and I are Buf-Miss Elizabeth's cousins. We knew she was staying in Russia, but not exactly where. We are here to visit her, but alas, we have had no luck finding her residence.  
  
Eyeing them warily, obviously not fully falling for their story, Betran took a seat opposite them and folded his hands neatly across his lap. "I'd have thought that was obvious." He said dryly.  
  
Frowning slightly, Angel leaned forward. "Excuse me?" he asked tentatively, not understand what he was getting at.  
  
"Your *cousin*" Angel winced as this was said ironically, "is staying with their Majesties at Tsarskoe Selo." He shook his head, mystified. "I can not understand how you would not have been aware of this. With someone of Miss Elizabeth's obvious breeding, where else would she have stayed?"  
  
That's a good question, Angel mused, staggered by these turn of events.  
  
Cora, who was obviously having trouble accepting all of this, leaned forward, put her elbows on her knees and placed her chin in her hands. Staring at Mr Betran incredulity, she ignored the disproving flash in his eyes as he took in her unlady-like posture.  
  
"Is there anyway we can get into Tsarskoe Selo to see her?"  
  
Signing, Betran shook his head in resignation. "I'm afraid that's impossible. No one gets into the Village without a personal invitation. If you were to turn up at the gates, I'm afraid you wouldn't get past the guards."  
  
Betran was curious at the almost instantaneous droop in Angel's shoulders at his words. Silently, the vampire flopped down into a chair and let his head drop into his hands in defeat. Without looking up, he muttered loudly enough for them both to hair, "Then we're back to where we started." He sounded pained, almost lost at the thought.  
  
Bewildered, Betran stared at the man. "You really care for her, don't you?" he whispered, stunned at the conclusion he had just came to.  
  
Angel looked up slowly, eyeing the young man sitting opposite him, his eyes wounded. "Yes." He said simply. "She means a great deal to me."  
  
Silence filtered into the room, both Angel and Betran lost for words. Cora was staring down at the floor, biting her lip nervously as she idly played with a strand of her golden hair. They were all lost in thought, trying to understand each other's side of the story. Betran wondered what he should do now, continue to aid this odd pair of misfits in their quest.. one that would obviously involve not only the Imperial Family, who had been close acquaintances of his and his kin for many years, but Miss Elizabeth, who, even if he hadn't known her for more than a week, he would hate to cause any more distress.  
  
Looking across at the pair, made up of a rude, wild looking woman who displayed almost no lady-like mannerisms that he could point out on the spot, and the mysterious, sad looking man who looked like the bottom had just fallen out of his very large world, Betran idly wondered whether it was really up to him to withhold the information that he was sure these two desperately needed. He could give them an easy answer that would be satisfactory to both parties.  
  
Clearing his throat nervously, which caused both Angel and Cora's heads to snap up wildly at the sound, Betran explained to them slowly, "This may not be as hopeless as it seems. There will actually be a Ball in a few days time at the Winter Palace, and I am almost 100% sure that Miss Elizabeth will be in attendance."  
  
Angel and Cora looked taken aback at his words and they shared a quick look between them. Leaning forward, Cora narrowed her eyes and said suspiciously, "What's that got to do with anything? I hardly think they are going to let just anyone into this thing."  
  
Nodding his head, Betran swallowed determinedly and looked them both firmly. "You speak correctly, miss. But I, on the other hand, have an open invitation."  
  
He let his words trail off, noticing with satisfaction Angel's eyes open wide in understanding. "Are you serious?" the vampire whispered, stunned that anyone would offer them something like that.  
  
Looking resolute, Betran nodded his head. "If you know Miss Elizabeth, then I don't see any harm in it" He actually flashed them a smile. "I've never done anything like this before in my life, although, my mother has always told me to be more forward." He chuckled at his own humour.  
  
Gaining confidence, he gazed at them each in turn before settling on Angel again. "I take it you would like somewhere to stay while we are at it?" At the vampire's suddenly awkward look, he smiled at them kindly. "I will ask no questions, but a friend of Miss Elizabeth's is a friend of mine."  
  
Angel turned around slightly to glance at Cora to see what she was making at all of this. But she didn't see him look at her; she was staring at Betran in turn, her eyes suspiciously cloudy. Deciding that she wasn't about to take up the offer, Angel turned back to Betran, who was waiting patiently for an answer from the dark vampire.  
  
Swallowing tightly, Angel got to his feet, Betran doing the same. Holding his hand out, he grasped the other man's hand in his own tight grip and the eyed each other over their arms. Finally, Betran smiled and Angel found himself doing the same, sensing deep down that they were making a good decision in trusting this man.  
  
"Good then." Betran said warmly. "Welcome to St Petersburg." 


	8. A Night of Ardent Reunions

Here is part 8 for you! Finally, back to the ball scene! :D Remember to give me reviews, I adore them. (Who doesn't?)  
  
Thanx!  
  
***  
  
  
  
Part 8: "A Night of Ardent Reunions"  
  
A few nights later..  
  
With his crisp black uniform laced with gold and impeccable black boots and slick hair, Angel knew he looked the part for the long night ahead as he stood waiting, with his hands clasped behind his back smartly, staring at the large, impressive oil painting on the wall in front of him, one eyebrow arched charmingly. He had been in the same position for coming on five minutes and in that time hadn't moved an inch, his eyes glued on the huge piece of art that sat primly in its elaborate golden frame, contrasting startlingly against the shear whiteness of the wall behind it.  
  
A petite young maid giggled as she hurried past him in the quiet hallway, her large dark eyes peeping at him boldly from under her cap of tightly braided raven hair and she brushed his arm as she passed, her hips swaying teasingly. Without looking away from the painting, a wolfish grin leisurely appeared on the vampire's face.  
  
When he finally heard the door tap shut behind her at the end of the hallway, Angel let his eyes drop from the expensive canvas and scan his silent surroundings in peace. He was standing in one of the more impressive corridors his current residence, Dakenva House on the Fontanka River, and he had to admit he could really get used to living in such opulence. When Mr Betran had offered them a place to stay, Angel hadn't really understood what that harmless offer really meant.  
  
But it turned out, quite to Angel's astonishment, that Dakenva House was one of the most impressive buildings he had ever been into, and that was saying a lot. He had to admit that he jaw had literally hit the floor when the carriage they had been travelling there in had turned to drive up the Fontanka River, the exclusive part of town that housed the most important people in the capital. Grand Dukes and Duchesses had built their palaces and mansions on the banks of the Fontanka and it was one of history's treasures.  
  
And Dakenva House was no exception. Even from where he stood now, Angel could see the wealth positively dripping from the very walls. They were a floorless white and from which hung some of art's most expensive pieces, all of which were wrapped in intricate gold frames. Greek vases filled with an array of flowers from all seasons stood still and proud on top of delicate Chinese tables while the plush cream carpets were soft and shining beneath the vampire's feet.  
  
The house was floorless and one that Angel felt a little tentative in staying in. He had stayed in some real beauties in his time but this one had to take the cake. But even though he had tried to stop it, to hold it at bay, he still felt himself sliding into life here in St Petersburg, even though he had been here for only a few days. Both he and Cora had been pleasantly surprised to find that Betran left them to their own devises most of the time, for during the last few days he hadn't been home much during the day; his time spent mostly at the store.  
  
They had spent their days together, just wandering around the streets of the old city, both of them knowing that there wasn't much else they could do. Buffy was well and truly out of reach until the ball and from what Mr Betran had repeatedly told them; going to Tsarskoe Selo was out of the question. Angel felt like he was going to tear in half with the tension and frustration that had filled him lately. To have her so close, yet out of their reach still, was driving him out of his mind.  
  
But, he told himself repeatedly; at least he had other things to keep him occupied. Wondering what the hell was up with Cora and Mr Betran for starters. For the past few days Angel had been watching them, like everyone else in the household, he knew, with a mixture of bewilderment and alarm.  
  
The two of them had been walking on eggshells every time they were in the room together. Which wasn't much, admittedly, for Cora was obviously going out of her way to distance herself from the Russian. In the few times Angel had caught her staring at the man, her eyes were misty and positively miserable. Whenever he had expressed his concern over her actions, her response was always the same. She would get alarmingly defensive and basically tell him to mind his own business.  
  
Angel was at a loss; he didn't know what to do. Betran was almost as bad. The only difference was that the vampire could obviously tell that he was just as confused about his actions over the young woman as everybody else. Whenever her name was mentioned he would go bright red in the face and start stammering. In fact, it had gotten so bad that he was spilling his tea whenever she walked into a room. Angel could have sworn they liked each other, very much it seemed, if it hadn't been for the sound of Cora's crying he could hear through her door every night. That and the blatant emotions she wore whenever she looked at him.  
  
She was hurting. Very badly. And it was getting worse the longer they stayed in Betran's presence.  
  
"Angel?"  
  
The voice sliced through the silence behind him and the vampire winced, mentally scolding himself for not paying more attention. He was getting slack, he mused, staying in such luxury. But recognising the voice instantly, he turned around to face his friend.  
  
And stared.  
  
It was a wholly different Cora that he was used to standing there in the hallway, gazing up at him in concern. Closing his mouth with a snap, he just continued to stare at her, lost for words.  
  
She grinned at his predicament and struck a pose. "You like?" she asked teasingly.  
  
Shaking his head to clear his suddenly fogged mind, Angel nodded fervently. "Very much." Then he too, grinned. "Is that what you've been hiding from me in the last few days?"  
  
Caught up in the moment, Cora giggled and nodded her head. "A girl's got to have her secrets, Angel."  
  
Her gown was of startling pale silver and fell around her curves like water. The split in the sleeves went right up to where the material ended, low off her shoulders, where it fell into the daringly open neckline. Looking closely, Angel saw that sown deftly into the hems of the gown were tiny golden flowers all the way around. She wore no jewellery that he could see save for a strand of thin diamonds across her forehead where it snaked into the hair around her ears, which was loose around her shoulders, a style that was unusual for woman in Russia, who usually wore their hair up on their heads.  
  
"You look wonderful." Angel told her sincerely, for she truly did. Being the time travelling immortal that she was, Angel would bet that Cora could travel back to the Ice age and fit in as a cavewoman if she truly wanted to.  
  
Cora beamed up at him, deeply pleased with his reaction. She held her arm out to the vampire and said primly with a grin, "Shall we go then?"  
  
Angel took her gloved arm and playing along, slowly marched her down the hallway towards the stairs leading to the parlour of Dakenva House where the rest of the party would already be waiting for them. In fact, he could already hear the slightly raised voices of the excited men and woman who were the friends Mr Betran had invited along for the evening along with Angel and Cora. By the sounds of things, they too, couldn't wait for this evening to start. From what Betran had told them in the past few days, this would be a ball of special magnificence for the entire Imperial Family would be in attendance, a rare treat in seemed. Thousands of invitations had gone out only weeks before and everybody who was anybody had been talking about the upcoming ball for days.  
  
For rumours were running rife about a person of great importance to the Imperial Family attending the ball. Nobody had the slightest idea who this person was of course, for invitations to Tsarskoe Selo for lunch and such were few and hard to come by. But it had been said by the Emperor himself that tonight would be night to remember.  
  
But now, as Cora and Angel joined the ranks of the other nobles in the room, most who were staring at them openly with curious eyes, but not bold enough to enquire why they too, had joined their seemingly exclusive group for the evening, Angel didn't doubt the identity of this special invitee for a second. And he wasn't overly thrilled with the rumours that had spread around St Petersburg about Buffy in the past week. It would make leaving harder for all of them if more people had become aware of her arrival in Russia.  
  
"Angel, for god's sake stop frowning, you're scaring away the customers." Cora hissed out the order between her smiling teeth and Angel gave a jolt. Standing up tall, he put a hand behind his back and gave his chin a proper tilt as he nodded his head respectfully at a middle-aged woman who passed them.  
  
Beside him, Angel could feel Cora start to relax. "That's better," she muttered approvingly. Looking around the room curiously, her arm still locked in Angel's, Cora said lowly under her breath for his ears only, "So where is our host for the evening anyway? It's gotta look bad if he's late."  
  
"According to Nadia, there was an accident at the store this afternoon, so that's probably why he's so late." Angel shrugged, "But apart from that, your guess is as good as mine."  
  
Cora frowned and wrinkled up her nose in distaste. "Nadia?" The she sighed in displeasure. "The upstairs maid?" Her expression turned to one of disbelief. "Angel, why must you continue to associate with them? If I've told you once, I've told you a million times, that sort of thing can never look good."  
  
Now it was Angel's turn to frown and he didn't bother turning in her direction. "And I must have told you a million times, Cora, that people like the maids are perfect sources of information. And information is exactly what we need at the moment, the kind that our good friend Betran can't possibly know." Now he did look down at her and frowned slightly. "You've gotta know better than anyone that the rumour mill in large households like this is enormous. Maids and such know everything that goes on in the household, and beyond most of the time."  
  
Cora huffed visibly. "All I'm saying is for god's sake do it discreetly. We don't need that sort of stuff hanging over us."  
  
Angel sighed, rolling his eyes in her direction.  
  
It was at the moment that the sound of the front door slamming shut caught the attention of everyone in the room and it fell silent, all eyes turning toward the entranceway of the parlour, expecting to see a person walk past from the foyer. And they weren't disappointed for it was Mr Betran himself who bristly walked through the archway into the parlour and spread his arms wide to include all his guests. There was a large smile on his face as he sought out Cora and Angel in the crowd with his eyes and when he saw them, nodded in recognition in their direction. Turning back to everyone else, he said in a booming voice to include everyone,  
  
"I'm terribly sorry, my friends, but it turns out that we shall all be a tad bit late this evening!" The sounds of good-natured groans from the enthusiastic crowd of seemingly civilized people made Angel smile as he listened to what else Betran had to say. The man himself was already working on his tie as he kicked off his boots skilfully, to the delight of the group who, watching him start to back out the door dramatically, exploded with laughter.  
  
"I shall be back in a few minutes, hopefully more civilized!" Betran threw back as he made his way out of the room, leaving a trail of clothing in his wake. "Let's hope our Majesties don't notice us walking in the door a bit late!"  
  
The room raised their champagne glasses in allusion and they clanking together as the group on a whole second this notion loudly. Hearing Cora laugh lightly beside him, Angel lifted the champagne glass he suddenly found in his hand in the direction of the archway that Betran had just disappeared through. His eyes trained on the empty doorway, the sound of the cheerful laughter of the wealthy people in the room with him filled his ears and he thought of Buffy, getting ready for the ball in the fairy tale village of the sovereign just outside of the city surrounded by the new family she had acquired for herself in the past week.  
  
She would be ecstatic about attending tonight, of that Angel had no doubt.  
  
"Lets hope indeed." He muttered idly, taking a long drink on the sweet champagne. Swallowing slowly, he closed his eyes to savour the long forgotten taste of expensive French champagne before turning back to Cora, while in the back of his mind hoping fervently that tonight went according to plan and they got home to America. Safe.and together.  
  
****  
  
Half an hour later..  
  
"Do you realise, you never actually notice how long it takes to get into all your finery until you have to do it in a hurry. How is that for irony?"  
  
Betran's sullen explanation was met by silence, neither of his fellow carriage passengers bothering to answer. Seated next to Angel, Cora was leaning back in her seat, Betran opposite them, letting her head fall back against the cushioned backrest as she gazed out the window, her face quite calm and composed. St Petersburg was flashing past them in all it's glory, all the imposing houses were lit up like Christmas trees for all to admire.  
  
For the special evening ahead, the whole city had come out to celebrate and the city was positively awash in a sea of wine, champagne, vodka and music. A lethal combination in anyone's books. Even if the poorer classes had no hope whatever to ever see inside the ballroom, they naturally had all gathered together and were having their own parties out in the streets. Turning her head slightly, Cora smiled as she watched a large group of people gathered around a series of bonfires in the street. They were dancing and laughing gaily as they frolicked around the warmth of the fire and the group of men sitting on wine barrels playing a mixture of musically instruments Cora had never seen before.  
  
Her eyes still glued on the dancers, watching them slowly disappear as the carriage glided away towards the Palace Square; she knew without looking up that man sitting opposite her had his own eyes glued on her face languidly. Betran had been staring at her for the best part of the 10-minute drive from Dakenva House and sorrowfully, Cora didn't have the heart to reprimand him on it, knowing that had their situations been reversed, she would be doing the exact same thing.  
  
Life could be a real bitch sometimes.  
  
Knowing he was watching, his chin resting in his palm as he gazed at her lazily, giving her a long searching look that he had to know she could not fail to notice, Cora closed her eyes gracefully, letting her dark eyelashes fan against her pale, creamy skin delicately. She let her mouth fall open slightly to show pearly white teeth and the overall look was that she had fallen asleep.  
  
Betran coughed awkwardly from opposite her and shifted slightly on the seat. Cora almost grinned but schooled her expression expertly as she leisurely opened her eyes and turned to regard him with a hooded gaze that he met full on. They stared at each other silently, the top of Cora's revealed chest rising and falling slightly as she breathed. She saw his gaze drop quickly to the tops of her breasts before he flushed brightly and lifted his eyes quickly, but his eyes held no apologies.  
  
Cora almost felt sorry for him. He had no idea why he was acting like this around her; he was probably dead confused about the whole thing. Maybe, just maybe, Cora thought, he believed he had genuine feelings for her. She sighed with regret at the idea. That would be completely cruel.  
  
No longer in the mood for games, the Questor turned her head sharply away and continued to study the city that rolled past the windows of the carriage. But when she felt the unmistakable jerk as they turned into the Palace Square she sat up straighter on the cushioned seat and actually turned to the window and peered out, her gloved hands resting on the windowpane. Opposite her, she knew Angel was doing the same as the extraordinary Winter Palace loomed into view.  
  
The magnificent building was flooded with every kind of light imaginable and Cora actually gave a cry of delight at the sight of the beautiful palace, which she had once loved so much, yet hadn't seen in such a very long time.  
  
Even though Betran was once again staring at her, this time with an expression of suspicion, Cora closed her eyes again and let the sound of the singing bells that was unmistakably Russia soak through into her very bones. This was what she had been searching for in the last 80 or so years, she knew. The sounds of the old country, the country that had at one stage opened its arms to the lost and desolate Questor and returned her to her previous splendour.  
  
The country that was once, and would always be, her home.  
  
Taking a deep breath of the frozen Russian air, Cora tightened her grip on the windowpane as a radiant smile appeared on her face.  
  
"Oh yes, Russia," she whispered to her adopted country zealously.  
  
"I'm home."  
  
****  
  
Taking a deep breath, Angel poked his head through the small door of the carriage and took a step down into the mini set of stairs that had been placed there for his use. Ignoring the outstretched hand that was offered to help him down from the carriage, the vampire jumped briskly off the last step and landed on soft velvet carpets. Moving away from the carriage to allow Betran and Cora to descend, he looked up and found himself standing at the bottom of a huge set of marble stairs, which let up to the largest set of marble doors he had ever seen.  
  
Turning in a slow circle, his eyes soaking in the almost impossible sights around him, the vampire found himself surrounded in a colonnade of enormous jasper and malachite columns, which from each fell rows and rows of baskets filled to the brim of every kind of flower he had ever known and more. The whole area was awash with colour as the sparkling palace released its hidden splendour for the evening. Craning his neck, the vampire gasped as he saw vast crystal chandeliers falling from the soaring ceiling, each of the chandeliers were also dripping flowers, this time huge white lilies.  
  
Turning back towards the carriage, Angel ignored the few people who were still outside, most of them were men smoking cigars in a small group, but there were also others, like themselves, who were a bit late for the ball. Most of these were the other members of their group. The men with cigars had stopped their hushed chatter and were staring him with a mixture of curious and bewildered frowns on their faces as they obviously tried to rack their brains to give him a name. Watching out of the corner of his eye, Angel saw one young man whisper a quick question in the direction of another gentleman, who in response, only shrugged his shoulders and continued to stare openly.  
  
Chuckling quietly to himself at their predicament, he was just making his way back towards the carriage to take Cora's arm, who was just stepping down, staring up at the palace with a bright smile on her face, when he noticed someone standing off to the side, slightly behind one of the malachite columns. Stopping, he narrowed his eyes and saw that it was a young man of perhaps 20 years with dark features and slightly shabby clothes compared to everybody else. He was standing there, his hands stuffed deep in his pockets, staring back at the vampire with raised eyebrows.  
  
Swearing under his breath, Angel started to walk towards the young man, ignoring Cora who was watching his movements with narrowed eagle eyes of sudden displeasure; her happy mood vanished as she noticed where he was heading.  
  
As soon as he reached the man, Angel grabbed hold of his dark grey coat and pulled him behind the column so they were out of sight, suddenly thankful that it was large enough to successfully conceal both of them. The young man immediately shrugged Angel's hand off and took a step back away from the vampire. But apart from that, he seemed to be in good spirits as he grinned up at Angel, wiggling his eyebrows up and down.  
  
"Your look'n sharp, Boss." He said jokingly in English, his strong Russian accent shining through.  
  
"Thanks." Angel replied dryly. Pinning his gaze on the younger man, the vampire asked testily, "So?"  
  
The Russian shrugged. "So what?" he asked back, still grinning in a way that was annoying the hell out of the vampire.  
  
Angel sighed. "So, have you seen her?" he enquired.  
  
"Oh!" the young man said jokingly. "That's what you meant!" He was silent for a moment, before catching sight of Angel's thunderous expression and chuckled to himself. "Yeah, sure I've seen her." He told Angel casually.  
  
Angel's eyes flew open wide and he swallowed thickly. "You have?" He whispered the question, stunned.  
  
When he had sort of the help of one Serko Vasilev the day after he and Cora had arrived in Russia, he never thought his plan of finding Buffy through a servant would actually work. Not that you could ever call Serko Vasilev a servant to his face, because you probably wouldn't have much of a face left after that. He was 21 years old and had been born and bread in the very heart of St Petersburg. He wasn't a peasant, that much was obvious from the first moment you set eyes on him. And if it weren't then, you sure would have gotten a shock when he opened his mouth and talked. He didn't have the voice of an autocrat, but then, he didn't have the voice of a peasant either.  
  
His parents had both been working for the Dowager Empress - the Tsar's mother, Maria - since he was born and he had grown up listening to the rich and famous as they came and went from her home, the Anitchov Palace. Because of this, and the Empress Maria's interest in the boy, Serko had developed the strange half language of the working class children everywhere who had been brought up in the comfort of the many palaces on the Fontanka and beyond, but didn't actually belong in that world.  
  
He was a real soul of St Petersburg and knew his way around the city better than most, and it was because of this that he had been sought out by Angel, who came bearing the very peculiar request of finding a young woman named 'Buffy' of all names, believed to be staying at Tsarskoe Selo with the Tsar himself.  
  
Now, having his contact through the Empress Maria, he had often been sent to the Tsar's village with errands and such to give to be given to the family, parcels and such that she would have rather been sent by hand than have to wait for morning with the rest of the mail. And so Serko had been sent with these such parcels, being allowed into the world of the Tsar and his family that very little people were actually allowed in.  
  
He knew deep down he felt rather proud to be trusted enough by the Tsar's own mother to be allowed to deliver these special gifts, but he didn't openly show it. People were always asking him questions about the world they knew they would never see, and he did his best to answer them. What was it like? Was it true that they had live Elephants and Tigers there for the children? Had he actually seen the children? Were the daughters as pretty as people said?  
  
He had actually seen the family on many occasions, mostly when the children were outside for the morning having their breakfast. Like any other male would have done, he had found himself staring at the four beautiful daughters who would be dressed in their white lace day dresses, their hair allowed down and flowing to their waists. Most of the time he would be walking up to the front door of the palace and hear them laughing as they played, or ate, and would sneak around through the bushes to stand and watch them as many of the others of the Alexander Palace found themselves doing on many accessions. They were just so lovely, all four of them, that any male would find they couldn't help themselves. Never had they known such innocent, pure-hearted sisters in this time where it was fashionable for the noble class to be worldly and to live dangerously in a world of dancing, clubs and sex.  
  
So that was why he had taken Angel's offer and had swapped with a friend working at Tsarskoe Selo so he would closer to the daughters, and if what Angel said was true, closer to the young woman named Buffy.  
  
But at the end of the first day, Serko was starting to wonder if the vampire had gotten his wires crossed somewhere down the line for he had seen no trace of any young woman going by that strange name. But it had been something that the young Grand Duchess Anastasia.the boyish one, Serko mused, had said this evening as he had helped them into their expensive carriages as they left for the ball, that had caused him to pause and turn to regard the young blonde woman who had been behind him, waiting for her turn to step into the carriage.  
  
"Buffy?" The young Grand Duchess had said teasingly. "Are you coming or not?"  
  
His eyebrows had shot up in surprise as he quickly turned to stare at the stunning blonde woman in the gorgeous blue gown who was standing a bit away from the carriage, staring out into the Alexander Park hauntingly. She had a few drops of snow on her charming nose but she didn't bother removing them, for which Serko had been secretly pleased.  
  
As she had turned back towards the carriage at the sound of the young girl's voice, Serko had gotten his first full glance at her face and he found he had to actually stop himself from whistling in admiration. She was magnificent and he found himself thinking that Angel was a bloody lucky guy to have whatever relationship he had with this glorious creature.  
  
He had found that he couldn't stop grinning as he helped her into the carriage and knew that she had noticed herself. But curiously, she hadn't blushed and turned away like so many other young ladies would have done. She had just stared back at him, slightly curious herself, as to why he had been staring at her. It had only been when she suddenly remembered it would not be proper to be caught staring at a servant that she had looked away hastily, and Serko had found himself under the stern gaze of the Tsar himself, who had not missed the exchange between the two younger people.  
  
So that was how he found himself standing here now, out in the freezing cold when he could have been at home devouring some of his mother's excellent home cooking and washing it down with vodka, staring across at his new acquaintance who, in turn, looked rather shell-shocked with the news that he had just been given.  
  
Leaning forward, Serko said uncertainly, "Look, Boss. Didn't you hear me? I said I found your girl." Then he grinned brightly, if he thought that would make Angel feel better. "In fact, she's right inside!"  
  
Angel's head jerked up in astonishment. "What?" he asked, dazed. Even though he had known she would be coming all along, to have someone say that she was just through a few walls was actually quite staggering.  
  
But Serko just grinned and thumped him on the shoulder good-naturedly. "You heard me, Boss! Stop gaping like an idiot and go find your girl!"  
  
Shaking his head, Angel cleared the fog out of his head and grabbed both of Serko's cold hands in his. Pumping them up and down strongly, Angel found he had a huge grin on his face as the two men beamed back at each other. "Thank you so much for this, Mr Vasilev. Just knowing she's okay is a huge weight off my mind. I don't know how I can ever repay you."  
  
But Serko just laughed. "Oh, you have repaid me, remember?" Stuffing his hands back into his pockets, he started to walk backwards into the shadows. "And just remember, if you ever need anything, you know where to find me!" And with that, he turned silently and was eloped into the night.  
  
****  
  
"You, Mr, are skating on very thin ice."  
  
Angel closed his eyes and winced as he slid up beside Cora and heard her frosty greeting. They were standing just outside the doorway of the Great Ball Room and they could both hear the sounds of the thousands of people in side dancing the night away. Betran had obviously gone on ahead because he was nowhere in sight and Cora was standing by herself, leaning up against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest in a very unlady- like gesture.  
  
She didn't move when Angel came up next to her. "Yeah, yeah, I know." He said absent-mindedly, in a hurry to tell her what he had just found out. "But I have some news on Buffy!" he whispered loudly, causing Cora to finally turn in his direction and raise her eyebrows.  
  
"What? That she's already inside?" At Angel's suddenly bewildered expression Cora chuckled. "That's pretty much common knowledge, my friend. Apparently they all got here about 10 minutes ago."  
  
Angel looked put out. "Oh." Was all he said before turning to stare at the doorway of the ballroom. He was silent for a moment before turning back to Cora, his eyes bright. "Well? Can we go in or not?" he asked impatiently causing Cora to sigh.  
  
"Sure, it's not like you've been waiting here for the last few minutes by yourself or anything!" she exclaimed dryly but allowed the vampire to take her arm through his and lead her in through the great mahogany doors. They stopped in awe when they caught sight of the masses of people dancing around the room to the sounds of the orchestra at the far end of the great hall.  
  
"Wow." Was all Cora could manage, which was more than Angel for he suddenly found himself without a voice. The view was simply stunning. Ladies of all ages dressed in a rainbow of different coloured gowns glided across the floor on the arms of men dressed in similar black suits to the one Angel was wearing, many with coloured sashes draped over their shoulders to show the different Orders they had been awarded.  
  
"Ah, there you are." A voice came from behind them and they both turned to see Betran standing there, grinning from ear to ear, and skilfully holding three champagne flutes in his hands, which is promptly gave two of to Cora and Angel gratefully.  
  
"So what do you think?" he asked them cheerfully, coming to stand beside them as the three of them watched the scene in front of them.  
  
"It's big." Angel said truthfully, causing Betran to laugh. Then he was discreetly touching the vampire's arm, causing Angel to look at him, curious, only to have the man point slightly to the side of them where a group of plush chairs had been placed for people to have a bit of a break.  
  
As the masses of people suddenly parted Angel caught sight of two young women, possibly about the same age as Buffy, sitting down talking to two young gentlemen who were standing next to them, their heads bent as they listened politely to the two girls. The first thing that Angel noticed was that they were dressed in identical white gowns and were so similar in looks that they had to be sisters. Both were incredibly pretty and had their hair wrapped up on their heads with a ribbon to secure it in place.  
  
Angel was still examining the two girls when Betran leaned forward and said quietly, "They are the two eldest daughters of the Tsar, Olga and Tatiana. Very pretty, no?" Then he chuckled. "They both should be married by now, true, but their mama and papa can not find men good enough for those two, I'm afraid!"  
  
Angel just smiled politely, not really having an answer for that. But beside him, he heard Cora snort and turning to glance at her; he was just in time to see her roll her eyes. For the first time this evening, Betran addressed her singularly, "I take it you do not agree, miss Cora?" He sounded openly curious, but there was a hint of mocking in his tone that made Cora clench her teeth together in irritation.  
  
Jerking her head in Olga and Tatiana's direction, she told her two companions tartly, "Oh, its got nothing to do with me not agreeing with you, but by the expression on his face, I'm not so sure their papa completely dislikes those two young men."  
  
Both Betran and Angel turned their heads back quickly to the young girls, and sure enough; they noticed a lean, vibrant middle-aged man dressed in a black suit like the other men, but this one positively dripping medals from the breast, walk up behind the two girl's chairs. He had a bright smile on his kind face as he tenderly placed a hand on each of their laced shoulders and bend down between them to whisper something in both their ears that caused both girls to turn and start to giggle in his direction.  
  
One of the girls, Olga, Angel decided, reached up and placed one of her own gloved hands overtop of her father's and squeezed it lovingly.  
  
"Ah." Betran said softly, his eyes riveted on the elder man's face. "Our Tsar himself."  
  
With everyone watching, Nicholas straightened, still holding his eldest daughter's hand in his own, and turned his attention to the two young men talking to his children. They were obviously on very good terms with the Tsar for they were completely at ease and were smiling cheerfully at him and his daughters. Nicholas said something quickly to them both that caused one of them to grin broadly and the other to roll his eyes in exasperation.  
  
"Who are they?" Angel asked Betran in an enquiring tone, to which the man answered offhandedly,  
  
"Oh, they are the Tsar's nephews, Fedor and Andrei. Sons of his younger sister Xenia." Then he smirked in the vampire's direction. "So don't bother thinking that there will be the sound of wedding bells anytime soon."  
  
Angel chuckled lightly, but he wasn't really paying much attention anymore, and he knew Betran could tell. Moving closer to Cora, the vampire dipped his head and said softly to the Questor, who was already scanning the room with her excellent eyes, "Can you see her?"  
  
Even though she knew that Betran was listening to them, curious, Cora shook her blonde head slowly. "No." Then she sighed in regret. "There are to many people in the room, Angel. We could be here all night."  
  
"I take it you are referring to our blonde friend?" Betran asked dryly, not bothering to lower his voice. He too, started to search the faces in the room for the Slayer. "I'm afraid miss Cora is correct, she could be anywhere."  
  
At the frustrated expression on Angel's face, he once again laid a hand on the vampire's arm reassuringly. "But your best bet is to find the youngest two Grand Duchesses for I've heard that she has become very close to the two of them." Then he smiled ironically. "A fact that doesn't surprise me in the slightest, for Mashka and Anastasia are by far the friendliest of the four."  
  
Angel looked taken aback with this. "You know them then?" he asked, doubtful.  
  
But Betran only grinned lazily. "You could say that, yes."  
  
Whatever Angel was going to say was cut off by Cora grabbing hold of his forearm in a tight squeeze. The vampire tensed instantly and he felt his entire body jump immediately on alert. "Cora?" he whispered tightly, his breath coming in short breaths as he waited, for what seemed like eternity, for the Questor to answer.  
  
"Over there, Angel. By the far door." Her voice was tense, yet soft, as she seemingly gave the vampire what he had waited the past week for. Standing up straighter, the vampire skimmed the tops of people's heads with his gaze until he met with the far wall on the other side of the hall. Narrowing his eyes, the vampire used his exceptional eyesight to land on two young girls who, by the looks of things, where in the process of slipping back through the large wooden door leading back deeper into the palace. Like the Tsar's daughters, they too, wore white lace dresses, but even though the tallest one with large blue eyes had her hair up like Olga and Tatiana, they seemed younger than the others.  
  
Both of them wore twin anxious expressions on their pretty faces as they silently slipped through the doors and back in the mill of people. Angel was just about to look away when he caught sight of another figure coming through the doorway. The young woman was obviously older than the girls, and wore a blue gown..  
  
"Where, Cora. I don't see anything." Angel tore his eyes away from the woman in the elaborate sea-blue gown and frowned down at the Questor who was looking right back at him, seemingly very annoyed.  
  
"Angel, for gods sake, calm down." She hissed at him. "And I'm talking about those two girls that just came through that door. Unless my eyes have suddenly decided to fail me, I'd say they are the younger Grand Duchesses that your Buffy is meant to be so friendly with."  
  
Sighing in frustration, the vampire looked back for the girls and saw them standing with another woman with brown hair and a cream gown with what looked like red stones scattered over her bodice and two dark haired gentlemen. The small group all looked surprisingly upset about something as they were all staring and talking hurriedly to each other in low voices. The younger girl with long, dark blonde hair was standing next to one of the gentleman, her small hand gripped tightly in his own.  
  
  
  
The blonde woman in the blue dress was nowhere to be seen.  
  
A sudden, extremely unpleasant thought suddenly made Angel catch his breath and jerk up straighter. His mind unexpectedly sluggish, a flash of coldness started to seep from his toes up his body until it reached his heart where it suddenly clenched painfully, causing the vampire to gasp out loud as he searched desperately through the teeming sea of unknown faces.  
  
Stumbling forward, he remembered just in time to grab hold of a startled Cora's hand before he quickly began making his way through the masses of silk and satin gowns, pulling the Questor behind him and leaving a mystified Betran in their wake.  
  
They had only got a few steps when Cora tugged him to a stop in the middle of the room, her eyes flashing as she stared up at him indignantly. But Angel ignored her and continued looking, getting more panicked as the seconds ticked by and he couldn't spy her face among the crowd.  
  
It was as if his body was awakening from an eternal slumber as he searched, he could feel every nerve and cell stretching to full awareness and his body positively hummed as if it suddenly recognised that its other half was near. His eyes wide, his senses enhanced, the vampire could surely smell the mixture of vanilla and flowers that was distinctly Buffy so strongly that he mentally scolded himself for not noticing it before.  
  
She was here. Very, very near.  
  
..And there she was.  
  
It was as if someone had turned his body into a block of ice and then tapped it, causing him to explode into a array of a million shards of ice as his eyes came to rest on the most wonderful sight he could ever remember seeing before.  
  
Her tear brimmed eyes were so bright, her face so angelic as the jewels she wore around her neck and on her ears reflected in the light and set her face alight in a haunting glow, and her hair so elegant up in its elaborate design that he actually flicked over her at first, not believing, before he stiffened visibly and his eyes flew back to land on the angel that was walking towards him.  
  
This couldn't be the Slayer.his Buffy.. it just wasn't possible.  
  
One of her gloved hands was clasped to her heart as if she had to hold it in while the other was holding up the hem of her gown expertly as if she had been doing it her entire life as she glided across the floor, the emeralds and rubies at her neck heaving against her breasts she gasped for breath.  
  
The vampire dimly heard Cora suddenly stop talking as she too, obviously caught sight of the golden vision nearing them. He couldn't see her reaction to the Slayer, quiet frankly, he didn't really give a damn, his eyes were glued on Buffy as she neared and he could feel a huge smile breaking out on his face. The first genuinely radiant smile in a week as the person they had all been searching so hard for finally reached him.  
  
She stood there, her eyes filled with tears, gazing up at the vampire for a faint second before she launched herself at him and Angel felt his arms wrap their way around her satin covered waist as he crushed her to him. Not caring if people were staring, which they obviously were, he buried his nose in her golden hair and took a deep breath, sighing in relief as the smell of flowers flowed through into his body.  
  
Her arms were tightened around his neck like snakes, unwilling to let go, as she too, sighed and whispered something faintly that he almost missed.  
  
"Angel.."  
  
And Angel felt his eyes fall shut in absolute relief as he continued to hold her, unprepared to release her to the world, fully craving that they were the only two people left alone in this huge hall so he could continue to hold her like this, their recent troubled history forgotten, until the end of their days.  
  
****  
  
Of course, it had to be Cora who interrupted their long awaited reunion.  
  
His face still buried in Buffy's neck, Angel heard the Questor clear her throat subtlety from beside them and he closed his eyes tightly, sighing in regret. He didn't want to face the world just yet. He didn't know if the Slayer had heard Cora, hell, he didn't even know if she knew the Questor was there at all, she only had had eyes for him, as corny as that sounded.  
  
But knowing he had to, Angel slowly slackened his arms that were wrapped around Buffy's waist and pulled himself back. Straightening, he kept one possessive hand on the Slayer's hip as he turned to face the blonde immortal, wincing when he heard Buffy give a tiny moan of regret at their parting.  
  
Casting a quick look down at her bright face, he saw that she looked quite flushed, a pink tinge dancing faintly across the tops of her breasts. Her eyes were rather glazed, dizzy like, and the vampire could tell she was in a mild form of shock. He was in shock too, he knew. But she looked positively exquisite as she stood there, one gloved hand on her chest, her eyelashes batting on her creamy face elegantly. When a faint glimmer was noticed out of the corner of his eye, he glanced across at her golden hair, piled gracefully on top of her head, and was stunned to see the slight sparkle of tiny diamonds threaded through her fair tresses.  
  
It was only when Cora coughed, quite anxiously, that he forced himself to glance up at the immortal in the silver gown.  
  
And was quite startled to see a small group of people crowded around them, all staring at the Slayer and the vampire in mild forms of confusion and curiosity. But no fury, Angel decided gratefully.no anger.  
  
Cora stood to one side of the group, looking noticeably uncomfortable as her eyes darted around the music-filled room, anywhere but the vampire's face.  
  
When a pretty woman in a cream gown suddenly stepped forward, a panicked Angel looked up at her and with a start, abruptly recognised these people as the group that had been standing together not to far away with the two Grand Duchesses in the white dresses. Sure enough, the two said girls were standing slightly behind the brown haired woman in the cream gown, gawking at Buffy with wide eyes as if they couldn't quite believe what they were witnessing.  
  
"Well," the woman said, her eyebrows rose humorously. "From that greeting, is it safe to guess that you know our guests, Buffy?" She asked dryly.  
  
It took Buffy a second to get hold of herself and she gave her head a firm shake, trying to clear her mind. When she finally looked across at the woman, Angel noted that her eyes were still a bit glazed as she blinked, obviously wondering what to say.  
  
All that the Slayer could manage was an awkward, "Ahh.."  
  
"We are cousin, madam." Angel said breezily, cutting the Slayer off. Buffy startled, staring up at him, wide-eyed. The woman, too, stared at him, but this time with the narrowed eyes of someone knew didn't quite believe all of what he had said. Angel was instantly struck with the notion that this woman was only looking out for the welfare of Buffy. She didn't want to see her getting hurt. And by the protective slant in her startling blue eyes, Angel could tell that she regarded him as anything but safe where Buffy was concerned.  
  
But knowing he had to say something to keep them fooled, the vampire casually shrugged and said casually, "Cora and I have different fathers."  
  
He could tell that the shrewd woman still wasn't fooled, but by the looks of things, the others sure were. They all looked delighted at the sudden meeting with their friend's family.. Well, most of them.  
  
It was the eldest of the two Grand Duchesses that caught his attention. She was standing slightly in front of one of the gentleman, her head cocked to the side slightly, and she was staring at him intently with suspicious blue eyes. Not in the same sense as the other woman, who obviously was just concerned about the Slayer.  
  
This girl, she was different. The expression of her face was one of mystified bafflement as if this was the last thing she could ever imagine to happen tonight. As if it was completely against her plan of things.  
  
Uncomfortable under her gaze, the vampire turned back towards the woman, who was still talking, just in time to catch her introducing her self as Olga Alexandrovna, the Tsar's very own baby sister. She had obviously put aside her misgivings concerning her young charge's rather peculiar family, and was trying to ease the way for smooth conversation.  
  
"So what are you doing in Russia, Mr.ahh, sorry, I didn't catch your name." Olga said graciously, startling the vampire.  
  
"O'Connor, madam. Angelus O'Connor."  
  
The Grand Duchesses' aunt nodded approvingly. "Your Irish then." She asked keenly, searching his face for any obvious lies.  
  
Angel dipped his head. "Yes, madam. And very proud of it. And to answer your previous question, my cousin Cora and I are in Russia enjoying your wonderful city." He shrugged. "When we heard Elizabeth was staying with your brother, the Tsar, we thought we would attend tonight to pay our regards."  
  
The mention of Buffy made him want to turn his head to see how she was doing, because she was yet to utter a single word. But knowing that would be less than wise, he chose to keep his attention on the sharp woman in front of him, knowing to mess this up would ruin everything in the past week.  
  
Again, Olga Alexandrovna nodded her head, still content to regard the vampire intently in silence, sizing him up. Suddenly, as if she remembered there was another new guest in their group, the older woman turned quickly to Cora, who, by the looks of things, was wishing the floor would open up and swallow her whole.  
  
"And you, my girl. What is your story?" She was boarder-line polite, not bothering to hide her suspicion, and Angel noticed out of the corner of his eye both men in the group grimace at her tone, as if they knew what was coming. But they, like the two young girls, remained silent, not daring to interrupt their relation.  
  
Cora almost jumped out of her skin when she realised the woman was talking to her. But Angel didn't hear Cora's answer, as much as he later regretted not, for it was the abrupt expression on Buffy's face that drew him like a magnet. It was as if she had suddenly woken up from a very long night's sleep. She no longer look flushed in anyway and her breathing was once again steady and normal.  
  
But her eyes had instantly narrowed to that of a cat's when Cora had been spoken to and the vampire was quite started to see the gaze she turned on the Questor was quite positively deadly. She was staring at the fellow blonde woman like she wanted to match strengths and see who was by far the most powerful. Instantly alarmed, even if he felt the smallest pang of delight to see the Slayer returning to normal, Angel learned across swiftly and grabbed hold of the Slayer's wrist, squeezing it tightly in warning.  
  
He could feel the Slayer jerk visibly at the contact between their two bodies and he bit back a grin just in time as Olga Alexandrovna turned back to him, clearly through with Cora.  
  
"I would suggest the three of you have a bit of privacy for a while." she said, quite kindly, but obviously for the Slayer's sake as she raked her gaze over the young woman. Then she looked up and around the room for a second, a frown appearing on her attractive face.  
  
"And getting you away from these vultures would do you the world of good." She was staring at the masses of people around them, not bothering to lower her voice in anyway, with frank dislike on her face. "If you don't leave now, you will be the talk of the city tomorrow, and trust me, you don't need that."  
  
She turned to the two gentlemen beside her. "Misha, Nicholai, take Buffy and her friends to one of the small drawing rooms, let them have a while to get reunited." The order was met with no complaint from either man, both who grinned at each other in amusement at her familiar demanding tone.  
  
Olga then turned to her two nieces and smiled kindly down at them. "And we, my loves, are going to go find your parents. Let them know what's going on." She grinned suddenly at Angel, and there was a faintly wicked glint in her eyes.  
  
  
  
"They are going to love you, my boy. So watch out."  
  
The bewildered vampire had just enough time to thank her before they were exchanging farewells and the two men he now knew as Misha and Nicholai, Olga Alexandrovna's brother and husband, were leading Cora and Buffy across the floor. He followed right behind them, not wanting to let the still strangely silent Slayer out of his sight. People stared at them with open curiosity as they past but the vampire ignored them all, as he knew Cora and the Slayer were also doing.  
  
The two men led them out through the grand entranceway of the ballroom and down an unfamiliar hallway, the only sound being the faint tapping of Cora and Buffy's slippers as they walked. Finally, after what seemed to Angel as hours, they two men stopped and Michael pushed open a heavily decorated door, standing back so that the two ladies could enter first. As the vampire walked in next, he turned around to face the two dark haired men, both who were smiling sympathetically at the three time travellers.  
  
"Take as long as you need." Michael told them kindly. "There will be someone outside to take you back when you are ready." His eyes rested on Buffy for the briefest hint of a second, and were hesitant, before turning to the two newcomers. He grinned playfully at them and said,  
  
"It's nice to meet you." Then he chuckled. "I'm sure we shall be seeing more of each other, if my sister has anything to do with it." And with that, he gently closed the door behind him, leaving the three of them alone for the first time.  
  
The room fell into a heavy silence, no one quite knowing what to say. Finally, not being able to take it a second longer, the vampire turned to face the Slayer who was now standing in the centre of the huge sitting room.  
  
Feeling undeniable giddy for some reason, probably so thankful that they had found her safe and in one piece, Angel couldn't help the broad grin that flooded his face as he stared across at the beautiful blonde woman in the glorious blue gown.  
  
But found, suddenly, that not everyone in the room was as happy as he was. For standing there, the Slayer had a hand up, clutching her neck tightly, breathing in short, shallow gasps. Looking up into her face quickly, Angel felt the first tingle of panic as he saw the expression of her angelic face.  
  
She looked stricken. Tears were rolling down her checks as she opened her mouth suddenly and whispered in an utterly terrified tone that the vampire would remember for the rest of his life,  
  
"Angel.what have you done?"  
  
**** 


End file.
